Star Fox: Before the Dawn
by Colyo
Summary: Sequel to Star Fox: Revolution. Peace allowed almost healthy lives for the children of Starfox; but the tests of time are not about to allow a happy ending. Is the new generation ready to heed the beckoning cries of fate?
1. Marcus McCloud

_**A word from the author....**_

Hey, everyone; welcome to the sequel of Revolution. Let me get one thing off my chest... that SF:R was all a warm up. As my first literary work longer than five thousand words, it was a platform for me to get comfortable with writing, and still is; I constantly hunt critique and outside opinions on how to improve it, and I give it tune-ups all the time.

This, is going to be my first _real_ story. Like Foxmerc had his _Overlord_ series, I had my Revolution... and now its time for my _Mercenary Wars_. Perhaps after reading Revolution you have come to expect only the cusp of quality from me; but that's all about to change. To ensure this, I have made a couple of policies I'm going to bound myself by.

-At this point forward, no more mid-chapter authors notes. If I find it absolutely necessary to add an afterword, I will.

-Look over my draft a _minimum_ of twice before releasing it.

-After the prologues are through, I will not release a chapter shorter than eight thousand words... Eight thousand _quality_ words.

_Star Fox: Before the Dawn_ takes place twenty two years after the conclusion of Revolution, therefore approximately forty years after Star Fox 64, not including the following prolouges that will introduce you to several of the major characters. Yes, this is a "children of StarFox" story... while some of you may shun them at first glance, if you liked Revolution, I can _guarentee_ you will like this more. Well, assuming my attempt at writing in first person viewpoint works well enough. If not, I shall simply go back to third person. Worry not.

At several points in this story (one example, in this very chapter) there will be a musical exerpt. For maximum effect, quickly look up the song on Youtube or Frost/Limewire if it's an option to play during the scene... just a reccomendation of course, I would like to think my writing doesn't need music to be enjoyable. xD

As a final note, I make reference to Foxmerc's "Dagger" squad, and in particular their leader, Gage Birse, at several points in this story. He is Foxmerc's creation and he is used with permission. If you aren't familiar with Gage, meaning you haven't read his stories yet. _DO IT. __**IMMEDIATELY. **__**ALL OF THEM.**_

Without further ado, the beginning of the epic that will probably take me _another_ year to finish.

* * *

_**Star Fox: Before the Dawn**_

_**By: Cole Petrik**_

_**Chapter One: Marcus McCloud**_

_=-=-=-=_

_Febuary 14th, 38 PLW (Post-lylat war)_

_0614 Hours, Corneria City time_

_John Pepper Military Academy, Corneria City_

_=-=-=-=_

_Narrative: Marcus McCloud_

I remember it all like it was yesterday.

I was twenty years old at the time. The only blue furred fox other than my mother in probably all of Lylat. Not a soul dared tease me about it, though. Hell, the girls loved it. I kept my dark blue hair just barely as long as my instructors at the John Pepper Military Academy would let me, the back of it tied up in a rat tail. To keep it out of my eyes -and fool the inspectors- I kept my mop raised with a black bandana. The cool look I had going was wrecked by my training fatigues. All we wore as we ran in the snow out behind the base was a thin long sleeved green T, and much thicker matching cargoes covered in pockets, one of which carrying a persa-com I technically wasn't supposed to have on base.

My dad, despite my protests, bulldozed through technicalities like that. I looked like a total loser when I had the biggest military celebrity ever walk into my drill sergeants office just to tell him he would be damned if his son couldn't carry a cellphone so his _mom_ could call him on a daily basis.

At least I was allowed to keep it on vibrate so my dignity wasn't shattered every time she called me.

It was Valentines day. Like every holiday it was one of the few times even the drill sergeants went easy on us. Sergeant Uziel, the scariest looking bulldog you'll ever see, still woke us up at the crack of dawn to run our morning laps around the on base track, but he gave us mercy, and cut it down to five laps from the normal ten. Some of the guys were bragging about how they would have ran the ten anyway. Me? I learned to take what favours I could get... especially out in that damn cold.

We were all still puffing away after our run, I could have sworn the vapour from my breath froze as I exhaled. There was about a foot of snow on the ground, thankfully the grounds keepers saw fit to clear a path through the track. The only person I could call a friend at that damn Academy, a darker golden furred lion named Zeraph Lionidis, finished after me, and took his blissful moment he had to stand still right beside me.

"You ever wonder why they go easy on us on holidays?"

I swore to myself I would punch him out the next time he said something like that. As though the Sergeant was waiting for an excuse to make someone run the track five more times, he descended on us like a hungry bird of prey. "Private dickhead, what did I just hear you say?"

He tried in vain to save face. "Sorry sir, I didn-"

"Do I _look_ like a "sorry sir" to you, private?" Uziel barked. "Stand up straight when you're talkin' to me, dirt bag!"

Did he deserve it? I didn't really think so, but I wasn't about to risk the wrath of the "Mighty Uziel" as we called him by defending the lion. Zer snapped to attention as straight as a board. "Apologies, sir!"

"Why don't you tell me, boy? Why do you think we go easy on you scum suckers on holidays?"

Typically, Zeraph was at a complete loss for answers. The sergeant was deliberately tapping his foot hard on the ground. "Well? I'm waiting!"

Still no answer. As though marking guilt by association, the beast turned his attention to me. "Well? How about you, McCloud, why do _you_ think we give you cock suckers such an easy time when you least deserve it?"

I reached for straws. "Because it reminds us what we're fighting to protect."

Bingo. Uziel stood back up straight again, and his expression mildly softened out of the "red zone". "Well, no shit. Private Spotlights can think."

I hated it when he called me that, but I was hardly in a position to complain. I think it had something to do with the fact all of the other superior officers handled me like some kind of prodigy child. Sure, I earned _some_ of my recognition, especially on the shooting range, but they were practically laying a red carpet out for me whenever I graced their presence. Sometimes I delve into their minds to see what they really thought of me. Many of them questioned whether the hype around me was justified... but others, the ones who were around when my dad went through the Cornerian Aerospace Academy, spoke genuine words of praise.

It was like they expected me to single handedly win the next war, or something. Out of curiosity, I checked what was on Uziels mind.

_"Maybe Spotlights here will take after his dad after all."_

Personally I was getting sick of the constant comparisons. While I can't blame them for thinking it, with my abilities, it was as though they were saying it to my face.

The sergeant stepped back and barked at the rest of the marines-in-training. "Alright, dick wads! Hit the mess hall and tank up, we hit the range at _ oh-seven hundred_ _hours_, and not a second later! Move it!"

The range was probably the most relaxing place on the base; second only to the few hours we were given to sleep each night. It was where I shined; it was just me, the Carlson 26L service blaster pistol in my hands, and the targets at the other end of the range. If there was anyone that could impress the hardass Uziel more than me though, it was a guy named Dennis. Dennis Hare. We never really spoke much, 'cause he was from another division, but apparently he was indeed the grandson of the legend Peppy Hare, my own dad's godfather.

Dad would mention it almost every other week. "Hey, you know the grandson of old Peppy goes to the JPA too, eh? You should say hi to him sometime, maybe have him over."

I did half heartedly try to strike up conversation in the mess hall with him once, but he'd always give me the cold shoulder. He was that weird guy that would sit at his own table with a stack of healthy food and scoff it all down in complete silence. I don't know if it was the food, or how zoned out he always was; but I don't think I ever saw him miss. Ever.

Sergeant Uziel would go to each station after everyone had emptied a clip, and either yell at its occupant for being a complete screw up, or simply nod and pass them by. _Very rarely_ did a word of praise emit from his muzzle.

I heard him coming from five booths away. He was giving the poor sap there the full brunt of his opinion. "God damnit, Private, if you shot like that on your finals you would be here for a whole extra year to make up for shit like this. You think Corneria wants a useless sack of shit likeYOU on the front lines?!"

The failing speech. It came about whenever the private in question hit his target with less than seven out of ten shots. I was no such screw up; all of my shots hit the simple cutout, but only two were in the center of mass, and one in the head. No where near my personal record, but excuseable in the freezing cold weather. At least it was enough to avoid Uziel's ranting.

Uziel got to Dennis. I didn't hear him shout, so I figured it was safe to assume he had pulled another perfect run; all center of mass. If not to invite him over for a friendly chat, maybe I should have struck up a conversation on how he shoots so damn well.

"Spotlights!" the sergeant yelled. I groaned.

He took a quick look at the score display console on the right side of my booth. "Holy twinkle toed cock suckers McCloud, what is this goose shit?!"

"Sir? I hit every shot!" I knew not to argue. I did anyway. Oops.

"Hit? You call them _hits_, Spotlights? Look at this crap! Shoulder hits, arm hits, ab hits. Where are my center of mass shots?!"

I didn't have an answer for him. Curious whether he was pushing me just for the sake of it, I read his mind again. Mom always told me to avoid doing it too often to people you _know_ would hate you for it, but curiosity always got the better of me.

_"...I can't be too hard on him, I suppose. It's god damn cold out here...."_

The bulldog shook his head, and handed me another energy clip. "Have another round, McCloud, I want to see that score go _up _or you'll be getting double laps monday morning_._"

"Yes sir." I slapped the clip in, and took aim. The target at the end of my lane refreshed itself and the Sergeant continued down the aisle. Only two shots in, I heard him bark again.

"Damnit, Private Dickhead! What the hell did I tell you about bringing that rust bucket to my range?!" He was yelling at Zeraph again... and despite the amount of shit Uziel gave him for bringing his grandfathers old Desert Eagle magnum last time, he had it again. I didn't know what he saw in the weapon; it wasn't nearly as accurate as blaster weapons, it was louder, had a god awfully short clip, and made a mess of targets. It was a brutal killers weapon of choice.

But for some reason, he got all of his best scores with it.

I was interupted by my persa-com vibrating in my pocket. I had plans to go home for the weekend -and it was friday, today-, Mom was calling me to make sure I had arranged a ride back home. I looked around to make sure Mighty Uziel wasn't looking, and brought it to my ear.

"Mom, it's not exactly a good time, I'm at the range."

Krystal McCloud would have none of it. "Oh, come now. You know your father outranks that nasty drill sergeant of yours if they'res a problem."

"I would rather he not abuse that position, thank you very much. It's embarassing enough that he plowed through here last year to let me keep my cell."

"Well, it's not like it's hurting anyone. Your father was right to do that!" she paused. "Anyway, you probably know why I called."

"Yeah, I called Aryn and he said he could get me on the way from the University."

"The University? No, dear that's way out of his way."

"He said he was coming by this way anyway to pick up a package."

"Well, if it's really all right. I'll see you tonight, honey. I love you."

"Love you too, mom." I closed the communicator. That was when I felt his breath on my neck.

"_Where are my ten shots, McCloud?" _I was ready for him to say.

Instead, I didn't even get a growl. Infact, it wasn't even Uziel at all. I didn't recognize the voice at first... "You're McCloud, I take it?"

I spun around, and was dumbstruck. It was Colonel Lionidis, in his full dress uniform. I nodded briskly, and he got right down to business. "Let's take a walk." He started in the direction of the sweet, warm indoors. Further down the range, he beckoned to two more of my fellows. His own son Zeraph, and Dennis. "You two, you're coming too."

"Yes sir!" "Yes, sir."

We walked in silence for three minutes through the hollowed halls of the Academy, our footsteps echoing off the brick hallways. Everyone else was in some class or another so we were left in silence. The Colonel brought us straight to his office.

"Take a seat, kids." he said while proceeding to his own seat behind a shining oak desk, littered with all different sorts of papers and folders. He opened up his laptop as the three of us parked our nervous asses on the three available chairs that paled in comparison to the leather seat the Colonel laid back in.

"Any idea why I brought you here?"

"Not a clue." "No, sir." "No."

His eyes were glued to his laptop, flipping through files. He stuck a cigar in his mouth with his free hand, lighting it in open air. "Hare, were you aware that you shattered the previous marksmanship record for your class? The previous was 96% perfect groupings set by none other than Richard DeLaine. You managed to score 99% with the Helios HR-MAC." Puffs of smoke escaped his lips as he spoke.

"I figured as much, sir, but I never thought any of it."

"Hmmm..." His keyboard hand stopped moving. "This is the kind of shooting we expect from a sniper school graduate. Perfect groupings with all firearms, all of the time."

"Thank you, sir... but..."

"As to why you're here, I'll get to that." He turned his attention to his own son. "Zeraph, _you_, on the other hand, are a terrible shot. However, your obstacle course times, and your times in the pit, are fantastic. You also rated particularly high in hostage situation simulations and team coordination, even though you were otherwise a complete _fuckup _when following _others'_ orders, but that can be improved."

"Err, thanks..."

"Marcus." He was flipping through files again. "You're like a flat plate of high standards. Nothing spectacular, but you're not below average in a single field. At least eighties across the board. Your dad would be proud."

I was dumbstruck. What did he want with us? I got my answer.

"I won't dick around the bush, boys. Do you know why I was assigned to this Academy?"

I knew that one. "You were sent here to find recruits for Black Ops training, sir." Then it all clicked.

"Then it shouldn't come as a suprise as to what I'm going to ask you three, should it? You're all top of the line soldiers. I would say I don't believe in the strength of family lines, but all of you are the children of a military success story, and here you are. I got orders from the top of the line to have you guys turned into the next generation of heroes, and you know what that means."

Dennis spoke again. "You want to have us transferred for special ops training?"

The Colonel puffed his cigar. "Spot on. I'm giving you a choice in this, though. Should you accept, you'll be shipped off to Katina come monday straight to Fort Birse and pushed to your limits. You'll be joining an elite few, class sizes rarely more than ten. All expenses paid for."

Was it the chance I was looking for? Not really. Black ops types were the kind that went unnoticed through history, taking on the hardest jobs simply because no one else could, or wanted to. We were to become the lead toe of the Cornerian Senate's boots.

On the other hand, the idea of being a hero was certainly appealing. Wasn't that my goal when I enlisted at the age of eighteen? No, I enlisted because it was my last straw. I originally got out of highschool with a passion for music, me and my twin sister Marie wanted to start a band... heh. Shows how well that went. We got a _bit_ of attention from one radio station we auditioned to, but no luck. She got accepted into the Cornerian University of Aerospace Science for astrophysics. I enlisted into the military.

So, was getting into the black ops program a goal? It wasn't before, but on that day, I made it one.

The Colonel slid three forms across the table with a pen on each. "Sign, and you'll be on a frieghter at 0800 Monday morning to your new school. Make your choice.

All three of us signed without a moments hesitation.

* * *

=-=-=-=

_1824 Hours_

_=-=-=-=_

I'm usually a pretty patient guy, but when I was excited to get off that damn base and my ride was twenty four minutes late, and I'm standing out in the freezing cold with naught for protection but my shitty service jacket, it was easy to see why I was a bit antsy. It wasn't even at the peak of the chill yet; the sun was still setting. Once that sucker was down all the way, it was gonna get _real_ cold.

Rather than entertaining the alternate ride plans I had in mind, my prayers were finally answered when Aryn's car pulled up to the curb I was standing at. A _damn fine_ car I might add. One would never guess his family was rich until he either told them, or they saw that fine vehicle he was behind the wheel of. It was a blue sports car, curvy as a magazine cover model from front to back, with a spoiler on the rear that simply screamed "_Try to catch me." _The passenger door opened upwards in a gull-wing style, beckoning me into the warm.

I roughly landed on the passenger seat, with eyes on the driver. I couldn't help myself. "What took you so long?"

Aryn Greyson was a snow leopard, like his father. He kept his black hair short_, _and it matched the thin black frame of his glasses, which shined with the light reflected off of the icy snow outside. Keeping in uniform, he was wearing an expensive looking black leather jacket, black jeans, and -you guessed it- black shoes. He looked at me, tipping his glasses down as though to codenscend upon me with his ridiculously high IQ. "A scientist is never late, he arrives precisely when he means to." My door closed on its own, and he got the car moving again. It purred like a kitten as we were brought out onto the highway.

"What about the pilot side of you? Pilots are always late... trust me, I know."

"Oh come now, my piloting is a mere hobby. I am a physicist first and foremost."

"Sure..." I rolled my eyes. I knew that Aryn spent every free moment at the university in the flight simulators.

The feline cracked a smile. "How's the academy?"

I leaned back comfortably, watching the base shrink into the distance in the rear view mirror. I forgot that his car had heaters built into the seat. "Shit, as usual. Cool news is that I might be getting a transfer."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, the Colonel pulled me into his office today and offered me a spot at Fort Birce on Katina. Wanted me to transfer to special ops."

"And...?" He said impatiently.

"I signed up. I'm gonna be on a ship out of here Monday morning."

"Cool."

I scoffed. "That's all you gotta say?"

"Huh? Oh, sorry." it became obvious he was distracted. "Yeah, congratulations! I'm sure you'll fit the... err, part."

I wasn't letting him off that easy. I read his mind like an open book. Who was I not suprised to find? My sister, Marie.

"You have my sister on your mind. Anything you wanna tell me?"

"What do you want to hear?"

"You asked her out, didn't you?"

He almost swerved off the road. "No! Hell no. No, I didn't."

"You be glad that she isn't telepathic like me, or you wouldn't be keeping that crush for secret very long."

"Good for me, then!"

"Yes."

It was an awkward conversation, thankfully the McCloud manor was only a ten minute drive away from the base at Aryn's usually illegal pace. Don't get me wrong, he was a great friend of mine ever since we were kids... just, sometimes, I wish he would keep his thoughts off my sister every time we met. It only started recently – as in the last couple of years- when they started taking classes together in university. I knew they spent a lot of time together; hell, it was probably only a matter of time until he went balls to the wall and finally asked her out.

It was Valentines day, after all.

As the car sped down the highway, city quickly turned to forest, heading towards the coast. We both lived on the same road, only a couple country blocks away from eachother. It was eerie, really, all my life I had been surrounded by people who were in the history books, and all of them knew my dad as a friend. Aryn's dad, Skye, was no exception.

It was already the trailing end of the sunset when we left the base, but by the time we reached my place it was pitch black outside. The view in front of the car was illuminated by the headlights; other than that only the moon, stars, and the windows of the beach front McCloud manor were lit. To my suprise, he turned off the engine when we pulled in in front of the garage.

"Stopping by?" I said casually.

"I figured I would stop in and say hello, rather than hit and run."

His mind betrayed him again. He wanted to see Marie. "Alright." I said, opening the car door. I almost made the mistake of trying to push it outwards before remembering the peculiar design. I pulled it up. Boom, I was plunged into the cold again. Aryn went straight for our door, apparently unphased by the chill.

_"Oh yeah. Snow leopard. Right."_

I didn't even have to knock, let alone touch the door myself. It flew open for me, and who was waiting for me at the other side with arms outstretched? My twin sister, Marie. She was a chocolate brown furred beauty, her emerald green eyes could light up an audiotorium. She was in her favourite vest: brown, like her fur, with a white wool lining, and a black pair of jeans. My sister or not, I couldn't help but think she was just the picture perfect person you would want to come home to after a long month of military training. Her smile warmed me up like the fireplace I knew would be toasting up the living room.

I don't know if it was some kind of sick prank or what, our names. Marcus and Marie were only two letters apart, making seperating our initials almost impossible in public and high school. It got to the point where we would use gender symbols in our signatures; or any time we would write our names, for that matter.

I would often hear stories about how siblings got into terrible fights and wouldn't talk to eachother for weeks at a time. Me and Marie were the complete opposite; we were as inseperable as any pair of childhood friends. Sometimes I would get asked if she was my girlfriend. "Who is that gorgeous brown furred vixen I keep seeing you with?" I would be asked... Needless to say they would usually be completley flabbergasted by the answer. No girls asked her the same question, apparently; as women had this strange power to tell when they were looking at siblings. Despite the fact my fur was blue and hers not, apparently our green eyes really stand out; and are identical.

Like I mentioned before, we wanted to be musicians once. Marie has the most beautiful voice; and we were both fluent in a variety of instruments, we were practically a two person band. As cheesy as it was, sometimes we would just sit together, grab random instruments and write something on the spot. We were the performing king and queen of high school; blowing away the annual Cabaret.

In my time at the JPA I didn't see her much. I was only off for a weekend once a month that I _always_ spent with the family. Marie was much luckier in that respect, being a student of more normal respects she had every weekend off.

Marie leaped onto me, holding herself up around my neck, my physique I had been building for the two years previous holding her petite frame up easily. I hugged her back. "Marc! I thought you weren't coming at all, I was worried you crashed or something!"

We loosened our grip, and she slid down my front until her feet met the ground again. "I'm fine, no thanks to Aryn's crazy driving." I looked back to the feline, who was just catching up.

I got out of the way of the doorway and let Aryn clumsily stumble upon his mark. Marie waved politely. "Hey Aryn! This is a pleasant suprise, how are you?"

Typically, he was at a total loss for words. "Uhh. Hey, Marie! Nice, err.. nice to see you too! Hey, happy Valentines day!" I had to chuckle.

Marie had a giggle of her own. "Happy Valentine's day to you, too, silly. Here, come inside, it's cold out there!" He complied clumsily. It was comical, really, in front of everyone but Marie he was a composed, confident genius. As soon as he met her? He cracked, collapsing into a snivelling wreck, as though each of his moves were judged by the gods. To him, she basically _was_ a god.

He liked her _a lot. _I couldn't blame him. I can shamelessly say that if she wasn't my sister, I would have been all over her all through school.

I ventured into the living room, absently casting the crappy service jacket and matching boots to the side. Dad was lazily cradling back and forth in his favourite black leather rocking chair in front of a cozy fire in his house coat. A smile grew across his muzzle as he saw me. "Marcus! Happy Valentines day, buddy! Mom's in the kitchen, making your favourite...."

I was stunned. "Mac 'n' cheese? She never makes it anymore! Why the change of heart?"

"Oh, come now. We had to herald your transfer properly! It's probably the last time you'll get your hands on fat foods like that for the next couple of years, at least."

I was definately suprised that he heard about my decision to ship off to Katina... which made me glad, really; because I didn't really want to have to explain to him that I suddenly decided to ship off planet. One quesiton was bugging me, though. "How'd you know about the transfer?"

"Are you kidding me? You forget that me and Sabre still keep in touch. He called me the moment you signed the contract." As he spoke, my eyes wandered around the room... around home. The walls were all a shiny, darker wood, the roof of the living room extended another floor up to allow for the second floor balcony to have a view over their den and the front door. The warm fire crackled opposite my father, lighting the room – and all the pictures on the walls.

The pictures were practically a perfect documentation of my family's life. There were shots of the old Star Fox team, even when old Peppy was still alive and flying with them. There was a shot with Dad standing beside his old SFX Arwing and his Arwing II, as though comparing the advances in technology over time. Another shot had him and Mom on the bridge of the old Great Fox II before he sold it to the museum... one with Mom holding two babies, me and Marie. The most recent one was taken only four years ago; at one of the big "team reunions" they held every year. Mom and Dad were there, Falco and Katt Lombardi, Slippy and Amanda Toad, Wolf and Dawn O'Donnell – whom, he had heard, were both killed a couple of years ago, to the dismay of his father -, Sabre and Kris Lionidis, Victoria Trace, Drake Tuttle, Miyu Clawford -who he also heard passed away stopping a terrorist attack-, and of course Skye and Janice Greyson, the parents of their guest. All of them were huddled around a picnic table, the gorgeous northern Corneria landscape serving as a backdrop to the celebration.

My lapse was interupted by the smell of my most revered food, and the call of my mother. "Dinner is ready!" The blue furred Krystal McCloud, dressed in black jeans and a purple woolen turtle neck, wandered into the dining room directly adjacent to the living room carrying a large pot of my favourite dish. She gave me a warm smile_, _greeting me through telepathy like she always did... She would always lecture me on how it was important to exercise my telepathy regularly to make sure it didn't dull. "_Welcome home, honey. I made your favourite..."_

I returned her smile. _"I missed you, mom, I always do."_ Call us a model family. There wasn't a speck of mistrust or strife between us. Rich, famous, and yet still loving, putting our family bonds before everything. Who could ask for more?

Aryn and Marie beat me to the punch while I was standing in the middle of the living room like a dope. Mom of course, spotted Aryn. "Why hello, Aryn! It's nice to see you again, you never visit any more! Please, grab a seat, you can join us for dinner!"

He shook his head. "I would love to, Mrs. McCloud, but I only stopped in to say hello. I have my own family dinner to be at... but I appreciate the offer."

Mom frowned. "Aww. Well, that's too bad. Give me a ring some time, and we can make it up."

"I'd like that." he said, tipping his glasses back up. "I'd best be off."

Marie gave him another warm smile and a wave. "Bye, Aryn, see you on Monday!"

"Yeah, see you later!" He almost ran into the wall when he turned around, and I chuckled at his antics again.

I snuck into his mind. "_You wuss, you were supposed to ask her out!" _

_"I'll do it when I'm ready, okay?" _Before I could argue, he dissapeared out the door. I could of course still talk to him but instead decided to let him have his peace.

Dad got up from his chair, his false leg striking the floor loudly as he made way for the dining room, but he stopped half way there, turning to face me. "You know, you two should play something for us before we eat. Do you two still practice?"

I was forced to shake my head. My music was something I mostly left behind... but the idea of going back to it, just for this time, sounded like as great an idea as any.

"Only if Marie wants to."

I already knew what _her_ answer was. "Go get your keyboard, I have _just_ the song in mind."

When I returned, I snuck into her mind; I knew the song... it was a half-rap song I scribbled down a long time ago... the last song I ever wrote just after we were told we didn't make the cut for that one radio station. We never did perform it.

Marie landed on the couch, and waited for me to start playing. My paws struck the first notes, the same little ostinato that was the underlay of the whole song. Eight bars in, she started the drum beat just by slapping her legs... and then Marie started to sing.

_(("Where'd you Go?" by Fort Minor))_

_Where'd you go?  
I miss you so,  
Seems like it's been forever,  
That you've been gone._

I took over with the verse.__

She said "Some days I feel like shit,  
Some days I wanna quit, and just be normal for a bit,"  
I don't understand why you have to always be gone,  
I get along but the trips always feel so long,  
And, I find myself trying to stay by the phone,  
'Cause your voice always helps me to not feel so alone,  
But I feel like an idiot, workin' my day around the call,  
But when I pick up I don't have much to say,  
So, I want you to know it's a little fucked up,  
That I'm stuck here waitin', at times debatin',  
Tellin' you that I've had it with you and your career,  
Me and the rest of the family here singing "Where'd you go?"

_  
_Her voice was as gentle as a warm spring day. Memories of the hopes we had for our musical career resurfaced.

_  
I miss you so,  
Seems like it's been forever,  
That you've been gone.  
Where'd you go?  
I miss you so,  
Seems like it's been forever,  
That you've been gone,  
Please come back home..._

But I'll always remember...__

You know the place where you used to live?

_Used to barbecue up burgers and ribs,  
Used to have a little party every Halloween with candy by the pile,  
But now, you only stop by every once and a while,  
Shit, I find myself just fillin' my time,  
With anything to keep the thought of you from my mind,  
I'm doin' fine, I plan to keep it that way,  
You can call me if you find that you have something to say,  
And I'll tell you, I want you to know it's a little fucked up,  
That I'm stuck here waitin', at times debatin',  
Tellin' you that I've had it with you and your career,  
Me and the rest of the family here singing "Where'd you go?"_

I miss you so,  
Seems like it's been forever,  
That you've been gone.  
Where'd you go?  
I miss you so,  
Seems like it's been forever,  
That you've been gone,  
Please come back home...  


No matter how strongly I wish for that lost time back....

_  
I want you to know it's a little fucked up,  
That I'm stuck here waitin', no longer debatin',  
Tired of sittin' and hatin' and makin' these excuses,  
For why you're not around, and feeling so useless,  
It seems one thing has been true all along,  
You don't really know what you've got 'til it's gone,  
I guess I've had it with you and your career,  
When you come back I won't be here and you can sing it..._

Where'd you go?  
I miss you so,  
Seems like it's been forever,  
That you've been gone.  
Where'd you go?  
I miss you so,  
Seems like it's been forever,  
That you've been gone,  
Please come back home...  


It could never be the same way again.

_Please come back home._

* * *

_=-=-=-=_

_A Year and a Half Later_

_Saturday, September 6th, 40 PLW_

_Fort Birse Training Academy, Katina_

_1620 hours_

_=-=-=-=_

The year and a half since I left my family on Corneria went by like a snap. The moment we arrived at the Fort Birse Academy, everyone else that arrived with us was split up into our training squads and we were thrown head first into our classes. Just when I thought the infantry academy on Corneria was bad, I was introduced to a whole new stage of hell. Up at five every morning for a twenty click run before breakfast, after which we would be shipped off to our specific courses. Some were in the class room for things like combat sign language, situational response protocol, etc. The rest were out in the field; everything from grueling physical training, hours on every length of range imagineable with every weapon type, or even being thrown into the wilderness with minimal supplies and a time limit to reach a very specific point miles away for extraction.

I was the "leader" of training squad three. Rather than mix us up with people we didn't know, like I expected them to, they threw me in with Dennis and Zeraph. Denny, to no suprise, went through the sniper school optional courses and was blowing away everyone in his class. Over that year and half, nothing changed with him. He was still anti-social, a perfect marksman, and enjoyed his pile of veggies at every meal. Zer was multitudes more dynamic. Like his father said, he was taking the time to fix his downfalls and was quickly climbing the marks ladder. Particularly impressive was how he progressed in CQB combat and tech-manipulation. His reaction time was speeding up, and he was becoming steadily more and more reliable as we wrestled through the mountains of matieral we were to master.

Although, despite how well we did, we had our problems. Me and Zer always got along fine as friends, but sometimes one of us would screw up and things would heat up quickly when the blame game started... at least we worked together, though. Dennis was a total lone wolf and almost impossible to nudge our way on team ops. His ideas were right most of the time, but he tended to ignore protocol for things he insisted were more logical. Unfortunately for him, and our team, we're marked on following instructions rather than how smart we were. You could tell he was the descendant of a merc who liked to do things his own way... and I _knew_ that he wished he was the leader, because he certainly tried to be on a regular basis.

Not to mention that it's kinda difficult to hide your opinions from a telepath.

September 6th, the day that Dash Bowman signed the treaty that relinquished his rule over Venom to Cornerian marshal law only months before I was born, was one of our few days off at Fort Birse. How did we use our vacation day? We were abusing the different training facilities. Any other recruit in any other program would use the day to go into the nearby city of Trenton to get drunk onto their asses. The BlackOps trainees? Nope. We spent our day in the Proving Grounds.

Despite the ominous name, the Proving Grounds weren't any kind of perilous natural feature or obstacle course. It was basically an over glorified speed run pit designed for three people; three roles. It was constructed like a warehouse with two levels. The ground floor, split into makeshift hallways by stacked crates making it an intense close quarters engagement zone, was the assault path. The second floor, balonies running along the outer edge occasionally interupted by rooms that extended out of the main room of the warehouse, was the CQB path. The last path wasn't really a path at all, rather it was a third floor balcony running along the entire building, where the marksman was supposed to simply wrack up as many kills as they could while defending their teammates.

There were three objectives the three paths had to strike in concert. The first was to disarm a first set of explosives , a holographic simulation that resetted to imitate a new kind of bomb every time you ran the exercise. No matter what kind of bomb, it would be contained in a digitally locked briefcase that required a code that the CQB path – Zeraph - had to hack from a computer at the first 2nd floor balcony room. The Marksman – Dennis - would then be completely depended on to protect the exposed Assault man – myself - while he defused the bomb. Upon the bomb being secure, they were to proceed to the second objective.

Objective two was a hostage situation at the far end of the warehouse. Hostages were kept by paranoid hostiles on two seperate floors in the same "building". The lower floor and the upper floor had to be breached in perfect unison by the Assault man and the CQB man so that the later-breached group didn't kill their hostages before the appropriate soldier reacted. The Marksman was again, dedicated to guarding their backs, forced to switch to thermal vision as smokescreens are deployed to cover the approach of more simulated hostiles.

After all hostages are confirmed secure, the third objective is to simply escape. The term "simply" of course used very loosely. The CQB man goes downstairs to regroup with the Assault man, and the two fight their way back to the entrance with constant cover from the Marksman yet again from the scaffolding. Simulated enemies are poured into the building during this stage by the truck load. Upon all three operatives reaching the starting point with both objectives completed, the simulation ends, and the simulation program returns their time.

The record was set by Special Forces Detatchment _Echo_ before they were renamed to Dagger... the legendary three man squad of Gage Birse, Richard DeLaine, and Erica Ley. They set the daunting record of only 00:04:25. Us three? The only time we actually _finished_ it, it took us a whole eight minutes and forty seconds. Almost _double_ their record.

That was why we were there. The time we needed to beat to even _pass_ the upcoming exam on this course was six minutes. Our best time had to be submitted by the exam date of September_ 7__th__. Tomorrow._

"You know why I think we keep screwing this up?" Zeraph said, reloading his compact CQT80 Vector laser sub machine gun.

"Because it takes you three minutes just to get the damn code from the computer on the first objective?" Dennis groaned, his Helios 3H-MAC sniper rifle already prepared to run it again.

"No," the lion rebuked, "because I don't think we understand eachothers roles."

"Heh." Dennis shook his head. "There's nothing to understand. We know the whole course by heart. We know all of the choke points, hot spots, and the best paths to take. We just need to be quicker, and pay attention to our surroundings."

"Easy for you to say, you're way up in the scaffolding watching as me and Marc get preforated."

I growled at them. "That's enough, you two, we have enough simulated enemies tearing us up without you two going at it." I hoisted up my freshly prepared Tectron P-AR Assault blaster. "Want my opinion? We aren't working as a single unit. Sure, it's three seperate paths, but we need to throw eachother more bones. If either of you see a target of opportunity in my lane, or if Dennis picks up something on thermal vision in Zeraphs lane, whatever- take it out. We need to scratch eachothers backs."

Typically,. Hare rolled his eyes at me. "Do I really need to be cleaning up _your_ messes?"

"Yeah, actually!" I almost yelled. "Maybe you're forgetting, but this is a _team _op, not just three solo missions on the same clock. _Especially_ in the third objective. Every second you cost one of us becuase we have to stop and take out a target that you felt we should do ourselves, is another second away from that record."

He seemed to understand that time, because he stopped arguing. "Now, if both of you are ready, lets run it again. Keep what I said in mind."

Dennis ran up the stairs outside of the warehouse that would take him to the marksman lane, Zeraph up his own set that would take him to the second floor. Me? I was the point man, I would be going through the front door guns a blazing. The simulation AI, a monotone female voice that _really_ got on my nerves after forty times running the sim, greeted him. **"Welcome, training squad three. This is your.... forty second... attempt today at this course. Your best time is... 00:08:41. The record to beat is... 00:04:25... are you prepared to begin your next attempt?"**

I shouldered my assault rifle properly. "Yeah."

**"The simulation will begin, and your team-mates gates will be unlocked, the moment you cross the starting line. Good luck."**

I took a deep breath to prepare, then ran across the line into the warehouse. Right off the bat, two red holographic targets I was expecting appeared before me, coming out from behind a wall of crates. Still on the move, I put a burst into each of their chests. They faded properly. I immediately heard the first shots from my team mates. Two hostiles I saw appear atop the crates I was running between were rapidly dispatched, one after the other, with the loud report of Dennis' rifle. As usual, he didn't miss a shot.

The briefcase containing our first objective was only a hundred meters ahead, and I practically dashed through the course as fast as I could while still being able to aim. The moment my rifle clicked on empty, training kicked in, and a new energy clip was slapped in not a second later.

It couldn't have been a minute before I was at the bomb. Holographic hostiles popped up all around me, but I kept my cool. One burst at a time before their 1.5 second reaction timer went off and "tagged" me, ending the mission. Dennis was giving me fantastic cover, his semi-auto sniper rifle taking down almost half of my targets before me. While he was a big arrogant at times I had to hand it to him... he was a hell of a sniper.

"I'm waiting for that code, Zeraph!" I barked.

"Almost got it..." a pause. My rifle ran on empty when I tried to take down one of the hostiles; it was too late to reload so I whipped out my service blaster and took it down in the nick of time before reloading my rifle. "Almost..."

"You're on the clock, damnit!" I was standing over the briefcase.

"Got it! X-ray Zulu Charlie Hotel Igloo Sierra! Moving to objective two!" I dropped onto my knees, quickly shifting the rotational switches to the appropriate letters... XZCHIS. The briefcase popped open, and I got immediately to work. It was a simple, old style "zap-and-boom" set up, with the detonation timer attached to a power supply and the explosives themselves. Easy fix? Cut the power supply. Making sure I got both wires leading from it at the same time, I hastily pulled my wire cutters off of my belt, and I made the cut. The false detonation timer changed its display to "DIFFUSED" and I was clear to move on.

My mind was back into my surroundings again. With a fresh charge in my rifle I ran on to the hostage objective. Three targets popped up suddenly, one to my side and two to my front. I decided to see if Dennis was going to do as I asked him, and ignored the one to the side. I leaped over the crate in front of me with my rifle in one hand, letting loose and dropping both targets. To my relief, the one I ignored was snapped by Dennis' supreme covering fire. The hand I used to throw me over the crates met my rifle again, the sights meeting my eyes.

I couldn't believe it. We were _doing_ it. We couldn't have been more than a minute and a half in, and the hostage objective was in sight; the far wall of the Warehouse, with a small two story sub-building jutting out of it. It was only a few dozen meters away. Quickly snapping down two targets, I noticed Zeraph careening across the 2nd floor balcony along the left side wall of the building, letting loose unecessarily long bursts on each target that popped up... at least he wasn't stopping for every conflict this time.

It has all become a broken record routine twenty attempts ago, this part of the objective. In fact, it wasn't really hard up until the hostage rescue. Burst to the chest, one after the other, and eventually we were there. The moment I got within five meters of the hostage building, smoke started appearing behind me.

"Zeraph, you ready?"

"Ready and waiting..."

I looked up to the scaffolding and found Dennis flipping down his thermal vision visor. I didn't even need to ask to know he was ready.

"On my mark..." I slapped a fresh clip into my rifle.

"Three..." I slapped one of the breach charges on the door handle.

"Two...." It beeped, signifying that the two second detonation timer had started.

"One..." I pointed my rifle up, ready to swing around the corner guns a blazing.

Boom. The door was blasted right off of it's hinges, and I heard Zeraph's go off at almost the exact same time. I slipped around the corner, eyes down my sights. There was six targets, three seconds to pop them all. Time slowed as my rifle turned its gaze from target to target two or three rounds puncturing it, they winked out one by one.

When my temporary leap in focus faded, the room was cleared. Zeraph ran down the stairs to mee me. "Cleared."

"Good, let's get out of here." I turned around to meet the dense wall of smoke that we were forced to run through. "_Now for the hard part."_ We both replaced our clips, and booked it blindly into the mist. Dennis was firing almost constantly, and was the lone loud sound we could hear aside from the horn that went off after every shot signifying that a target was down. By the time we stumbled to where the bomb was, the mist was thin enough to see again.

That was the _real_ hard part.

Targets started to appear in rapid succession, four or five at a time. I took the left lane, Zeraph took the right, barely having enough time to reload between waves. I was amazed Dennis brought as much ammo as I heard being spent. My heart picked up. We were so close, and we still hadn't heard the tell-tale siren that went off when an operative was "killed." Step after step, burst after burst, we approached our goal.

Then the shit hit the fan. We were only _metres_ from the end of the course, back where we started; both me and Zeraph clicked on empty at the same time. Only one more target popped up; Dennis didn't off it immediately, so he must have clicked out too.

The flicker of hope came when I saw what Zeraph did. My perception of time slowed again as I noticed his bullet pistol, the Desert Eagle, was soaring through the air in my direction. Just in time, I shot my paw out and slid my fingers around its sleek grip, bringing to bear against the last target before we were both tagged. It's sights slipped right into position. I fired, leaping towards the exit.

We both landed across the line. No "mission failed" siren. We did it.

_"Congratulations, Squad Three. Course Completion Time: 00:04:36. Top honors score range achieved. Scores submitted to Training Scores Database C."_

My feelings were mixed, half glee, half crushing dissapointment for not beating the record. I tossed the pistol back to Zeraph, both of us still lying on the ground. I spotted Dennis running down the stairs. "Well? How did we do?"

Zeraph finally stood. "Only eleven seconds short of the record! We did it! _Top honors!_"

I shook my head, looking up at the clear blue sky, limbs spread out as if I were going to make a snow angel. "We were so close... We could have made the history books right there."

"Oh, quit your wussing, Marc." Zeraph chuckled. "We cut our time in _half_. Lieutenant Kang is going to _shit bricks_ when he sees that score."

* * *

=-=-=-=

_16 hours later_

_1030 hours Trenton City time_

_September 7th, 40 ALW_

=-=-=-=

While we didn't get a front seat to see Kang's expression when he discovered our scores, we _did_ get a reaction out of him none of the three of us could have expected. We were having a late breakfast in the mess hall, with half an hour left until our first written test. The hall was a huge room, at least three stories tall and with the ground space of a gymnasium. It was lined end to end with restaurant dining tables, except for the service counters at the far end where the minimum-wage lunch ladies dumped whatever we pointed hesitant fingers at onto our paper plates. Me and Zer settled with the shitty bacon and eggs ripoffs that were labeled as the "morning special". Dennis, on the other hand, was digging into his veritable pile of rabbit food he never missed a daily dose of.

Lieutenant Kang, or "Sir Hardass" we liked to call him, was a beast of a Wolf, standing at 6'5, and not a square inch of him housed mercy. That morning though was different; he approached us calmly like brothers in arms rather than the maggots we were otherwise labeled as every morning. We heard rumors that he was relaxed on exam days, but this was altogether different. When he approached me, who was half way through a slice of toast, he spoke as though we were already graduates.

"McCloud? I'm supposed to pass on a message, Colonel Birse wants to see you and your squad in his office." his low rumble betrayed the fact he was doing his best to hide his disdain for the recruits. He had been as shocked as everyone else in the regiment when he heard about how we almost beat Dagger's time in the Proving Grounds.

I swallowed my food quickly rather than have him stand there waiting for an answer. "Uh, thanks, sir. We'll go to him immediately when we're finished."

"Let me rephrase that, kid..." I didn't have to scan his brain to know his patience wore thin. "Colonel Birse wants to see you, _now."_

I got looks of suprise from both Dennis and Zer, which I returned. "Umm, okay. I guess we can eat later."

Kang kept staring at me.

"...sir."

The wolf spun on his heels, naturally we were to follow. Dennis noticably grumpy about having to abandon his pile of veggies, we picked up Kang's trail. He led us through a series of hallways. I couldn't help but feel the nostalgia; being dragged into a superior's office in almost the exact same manner when Colonel Lionidis offered us the position in Fort Birse's Academy.

Although this time it was definitely more nerve wracking. The guy that wanted to see us was the man we almost broke the record of the day previous; Gage Birse, Cornerian legend. There were only a few missions of his we ever heard about that took place after Dagger was brought out to the public for the sake of morale; and even those were jaw droppers. God knows what Dagger did behind the scenes under his command for all of the years previous. Now, the most presitgeous military Academy in Lylat was _named_ after him.

And he had called us to _his_ office. It was like a celebrity taking notice of your acting ability and offering use of his agent. I tried not to get ahead of myself. While I was fairly sure that we weren't about to get yelled at, considering our performance in the Proving Grounds, it could have been for any number of reasons: like how it took us forty-two tries to attain that score.

When Lieutenant Kang opened the office door and ushered us in, the presence of the man himself was like a breath exhaled from the earth. There he was, the red fox that every trainee aspires to be worthy of, lying back on a black leather officer chair with his paws behind his head and his boots on his desk. We all snapped to attention with salutes that could cut glass, we were stiff as boards. He waved the gesture aside like a bothersome gnat. "At ease." He waved his hand at the chairs in front of his desk. "Take a seat, boys."

He didn't get a second of hesitation from any of us. Three comfy looking leather chairs were lined up on our side of his desk, and we each took a seat. Myself in the middle, with Dennis to my right and Zeraph to my left. We were in silence. Birse took his feet off his desk and sat up, clapping his paws on his thighs as though to snap us out of a stupor. "Well? Aren't you going to say hi?"

Dennis gave him a relaxed "Hi", I could only give him a stumbling "Err.. hello." Zeraph was speechless.

"Look, let's get one thing straight; I ain't this invincible god the brass makes me out to be. Every man that goes through this academy as a graduate comes out the same; with the same training and the same reactions programmed into the back of their minds for the rest of their life. The only things that seperate a Black Ops success story from one that gets whacked on his first mission, is how much he trusts the instincts he leaves here with... not only the ones we teach them, but the instincts that tell them a smart move from a bad one. The instincts that tell you how to come on top of the guys shooting back at you. You three get what I'm saying?"

I wasn't sure why he was telling this, but I nodded. Dennis came right out and said "I do, sir." Zeraph remained as still as a pillar of ice.

An unconvinced look on his face, the Colonel continued. "All three of you are already aware of how many recruits we cut during the class year. Some of these people had even better marks than you. What seperates you from them, though, is not your marksman scores or your time in the pit... what makes the few that graduate here special, is that at some point they've shown that they have the right instincts. The ones that no one can here can teach them."

My heart started to freeze. I was sure, that right there, we were going to be cut from the program. I shifted my gaze to Dennis who seemed to be just as nervous. Snapping my attention back to Birse, I braved a question. "Are we going to be cut?"

"Cut? God no. _No._ " Gage almost laughed. "You see, sometimes, on my off hours, I like to watch the recruits stumble through the Proving Grounds like a bunch of morons. I watched you three fuck up forty one times yesterday; and I _was_ thinking about sending you packing... but on that forty second attempt..." He took a deep breath. "I saw something. No, it wasn't the time you pulled, or how damn quick Lionidis here pulled the code for the bomb case, or Hare's insane sniping. That little stunt at the end is what really caught my eye."

My confidence was growing. "You mean when Zeraph threw me the pistol?"

"Exactly. You'll find in this career that there's times where whatever gods are up there stick their tongue out at you and leave you up the river without a paddle. I can honestly tell you that _every single recruit_ that I've watched fall in a similar situation -and not even exclusively in that course- would just give up and swear to themselves. They take one look at doom, and their damn brain shuts down. You two? You did... whatever that was, and it worked. _That's_ what seperates a Fort Birse graduate from an every day grunt. The ability to work together to pull off miracles under pressure."

I was sighing in relief at that point. More questions found room in my rapidly deflating brain. "Somehow, sir, I doubt you dragged us to your office on such short notice to give us a pat on the back..."

The Colonel cracked a grin. "No, you're right. I called you here because you're not only going to graduate, but you're going to graduate _early_."

My jaw must have hit the floor. "_What?"_

He folded his paws and rested them on the desk. "You see, I just got a call from Supreme General Grey only a couple hours ago. He has something that needs done, and all of our current assets are on call. Brass is all hush-hush about_ why _he wanted me to do this, but he wanted me to pick out my best squad of trainees and have them prepped for deployment for an in-the-dark assignment. You three came to mind immediately. It's your choice, but if you accept, you'll be put on active duty immediately and shipped wherever High Command wants you."

Zeraph was still frozen solid. "You can't be serious..." Dennis, on the other hand, was giving me that _"Don't you dare say no." _look.

I didn't really think I was as ready as he said I was, but I was willing to take the legendary's Gage Birse's word on it. "Alright. We'll do it."

Zeraph made his first move since we had entered the office, to give me a frosty glare of nervousness and fear. "You sure about this, Ma-"

Birse interupted him. "Good. As of now, you three are all but one member of the new Special Forces Detatchment Sierra. Command thought it would be a good idea to send someone more experienced as your fourth member, and you'll probably be meeting him on the way to your briefing. Go pack up your shit, and be ready for dustoff at twelve hundred hours."

"Understood, sir. We won't let you down."

Oh how wrong I was...

_((I hope you all enjoyed that as much I did writing it, it's good to crack into a plot that I'm not just stumbling into, but rather one I planned and am hyped to write. Chapter two, the second of our main characters introductory stories, will come soon.))_


	2. Karen O'Donnell

Hi again, everyone! Another chapter of introduction, and it won't be the last. There is _a lot_ I have to get into prospective before I bring in the main plot.

Oh, and Foxmerc's Dagger squad makes another appearance here, although a smaller one. In my musing, it suddenly became apparent that Dagger, and Gage in particular, recieved a more important role than I originally realized when I made him Marcus' SpecOps CO. I won't spoil it, but suffice to say, you're going to be seeing plenty of them... so I just wanted to confirm again that they are indeed Foxmerc's creation. If you don't know them, read his stories. They're worlds better than mine anyway. Go on, now! Shoo!

Or continue reading. Enjoy.

_**Chapter Two: Karen O'Donnell**_

_=-=-=-=_

_June 6th, 34 PLW_

_Star Wolf Empire Flagship: Executor_

_Karen O'Donnell's Private Chambers_

_1013 Hours, Lylat Standard Time_

_=-=-=-=_

I was sixteen years old, and I hated being in space. What more was there to tell? My dad, the feared "Warlord O'Donnell", would take his ship, the Executor, out for business trips once every couple of weeks. I, unfortunately, always had to be dragged along. I could understand why he couldn't trust babysitters though. Any "baby sitter" could just as easily be a Kewian government assassin or an upstart mercenary looking to off me and my family. I would like to think that with all the combat training I go through I wouldn't have to be babysat at the age of sixteen, but a _lot _of people wanted us dead. If anyone heard that the young O'Donnell girl was on her own, I would have to be surrounded by a contingent of bodyguards at all times to stay alive... and that was before counting in snipers.

Such is the life of the rich daughter of a Warlord, lying on my big comfy king sized bed in my VIP suite aboard the Executor. Looking out the viewport covering the entire wall closest to my bed, I could see the planet under our dominion: Kew. It was a pathetic world, really. The lone planet was in such economic despair that the criminal underground almost completely took it over, offering cash flow through illegal drug and slave trades. The whole damn thing was _already_ controlled by mob bosses and gangs even before my dad swooped in on the power vacuum created by the _convenient _deaths of several influencial crime lords. As a result, the whole damn rock pretty much belonged to him. It was hard to believe he was partially credited for saving the Lylat System the year before I was born... he was as ruthless as the next villian, knee deep in drug trading, gambling, prostitution and even a couple of slave operations.

There were so many technicalities and manners my dad would try to teach me about the empire that eventually would be passed down to me. Already bored to tears in that flying crate he called a ship, he liked to use these times to randomly ambush me in my room and start his speech about how everything he owned and built would be mine one day. Don't get me wrong; I was _really_ looking forward to the day I get a pirate fleet at my command to do whateverthe fuck I wanted with. No matter how appealing the content of the speech, though, it was still a _speech_. I _hated_ speeches.

I had a long sleep, and woke up at about ten in the morning to do the only thing I could while dad went about to talk to his "_friends_" about some business matter or another. I practiced my telekinesis. Mom, a pure Cerinian herself, told me about how telekinesis was a rare gift amongst our kind; even rarer amongst inpure Cerinians like me. I didn't have blue fur, and I couldn't read minds. I was just a normal, grey furred Wolf with long, black, naturally curly hair... but I have the _awesomest_ eyes. As a result of my rare gift, my eyes were a deep, bloody crimson. It gave me this eerie aura that let me just look into a subordinates eyes and I could just _smell_ his fear. They would look at me as though I was completely lacking in the slightest shred of conscience, and would tear the pitiful creature limb from limb if he got me angry.

Which wasn't far from the truth, now that I think about it.

The thing with my telekinesis though, as awesome as it sounds, it was pretty weak. Mom would always tell me how I have to use it _a lot_ for it to finally manifest... so that's what I did on those boring business trips. I would try to use my mind to lift the different things around my room. The heaviest thing I could lift back then was a god damn teacup; and if I was going to become a scary supervillian that could throw cars at people with my head, I was gonna have to practice. I would focus on the object as hard as I could, and imagine it floating up in the air. Sometimes it would work, sometimes it wouldn't.

I would always warm up on smaller objects. Still in my pajamas, I sat up with a start and my eyes caught their first target as though I was ambushing my own abilities; scaring them into working properly that morning. It was a pen scattered randomly at the other side of the room.

I concentrated as hard as I could on it, wrapping my mind around its form; taking a grip around it with my imagination... just like Mom told me to. Just when I thought my focus was at its peak; I tried to move it. "Comon, you bastard...."

It didn't budge. "Fuck you." I groaned at it with finality.

I decided to take a walk around the ship. I needed to be more awake before I tried again. Shaking off my sleep, I rolled off of my bed onto my feet and slid open my walk in closet; looking for something suitable to wear. Not figuring I would be going anywhere special on such a boring day, I just picked out the most comfortable things on the tightly packed rack of clothes. Shedding my red striped pajamas, I replaced them with a pair of blue jeans and a black turtleneck. Then I grabbed my hairbrush and had a miniature war getting my hair all untangled before going out into the hallway. In my position, no matter what day it was, you had to look your best. Showing any sign of fatigue in front of your subordinates – or future business partners – was a sign of weakness, and damaged your credibility... even if only slightly.

So speaketh Warlord O'Donnell the Wise, anyway.

While I never had to use it, I also kept my Tyrael Mark-4 blaster pistol with me; even when I was that young. It was a lighter pistol that had a decently large clip, was plenty accurate, and had a pretty decent fire rate, although sacrificing the power of a bigger pistol. It was a good choice for my age and build at the time; and having a gun properly picked out for your abilities -rather than grabbing the meanest gun you could to be a show off- was a sign of , another tidbit from my dad. I strapped the holster around my right thigh and put my pistol in its rightful place before walking through the doorway that opened automatically for me, deciding to head to the bridge to see what dad was up to.

Being an old ship, the Executor didn't have all the eye-hurting sterile white surfaces of a modern ship of the line. Rather, she had been refitted with someone as rich as my father in mind; all of the hallways on the vessel carpeted red, the walls matching suit (except a bit lighter shade) minus a dark green stripe running lengthwise throughout the entire ship on the lower half of the walls. The paint job carried on across all of the doorways, too. The luxury betrayed it's true calling, though; first and foremost, the Executor was a battleship. While it's stock components were outdated decades ago, it was refitted all of the time with more modern shield, engine and weapons systems, and could still keep up with a Cornerian battle cruiser fresh out of the ship yards. As Dad would always say... "She's old, but she ain't out. Not even close."

If Dad was down in one of the meeting suites, I thought at least Halsey would be around on the bridge to keep me company... he was the captain of the Executor; a white cat even older than my parents. There's a short list of people in our empire that we can _really_ trust, and Jacob Halsey was one of them. He served under the O'Donnell banner since the Aparoid conflict almost thirty years before I was born, and was like a godfather to me.

There was a pair of guards at every junction in the old ships halls, each would straighten their posture when I walked by. Just for fun, I would throw an accusing glance at one once in a while and the victims' eyes would practically pop out of his head... but not today. Heading towards the bridge, I walked by my first pair of victims. Typically, they both had eyes on me; a taller doberman and a skinner, shorter weakling of a husky. I gave the husky a glare that said _"I don't like the way you're looking at me."_

Rather than him suddenly looking the other way like I expected, he returned my look with a sarcastic gaze. I could read it; "_What are you lookin' at me like that for, little girl?"_

I was infuriated, but I knew dad would have been pissed off if I shot the scum bag right on the spot. Rather, I gave a puff of enraged disapproval and headed on my way. Had I been older, more mature... I would have taken that as a hint as to what was coming. They didn't react the same because they _weren't_ the same... I still blamed myself to this day for what happened on the bridge.

Typically, there were two guards flanking the circular bridge doors. I just leisurely went for the doors without a care in the world, until one of the guards did something that _no one_ had done to me before. He barred my way.

It was a duck. A green mallard. He was about to be a _deep, crimson red_ mallard. "Sorry miss, can't let you go this way."

"Try again. This is my father's ship. I'll go wherever the fuck I want."

"Not today, little lady. I got orders to keep everyone out."

My patience snapped like a twig. I was going to teach this prick a lesson. If there's anything I don't regret about that day, it's what I did there. "Wrong answer." I pulled out my Tyrael Mark 4, pointed it at his kneecap, and fired. The pitiful avian fell down screaming in pain, and I swung the blaster towards his friend, a black labrador, before he could react.

"You wanna get in my way too?" I had to shout over the screams of his compatriot. To my amazement, the bastard dog actually tried to out-draw me when my blaster was already out. He tried to shoulder his assault blaster. Unfortunately for him, unlike every other sixteen year old girl in Lylat, I wasn't about to hesitate. He got a laser wound square in the chest. Just to punish by association, I brought the blaster back to the screaming mallard, who was lying in the fetal position on the floor, and put laser into his head. The cowering stopped, and I was left in silent hallways again.

Satisfied, I tried to walk through the bridge doors. They didn't open automatically for me. Checking the console on the side of the door, I found out it was not only closed off, but sealed with a god damn password. Dad didn't know I knew it; I quickly typed in _F-R-E-E-D-O-M _and the doors quickly slipped open without even a chime.

What I saw pissed me _right_ off. It also explained the guards. There was seven people in the room; two of them dead... the first one I recognized as Halsey, lying bleeding in his captains chair with a smoking blaster hole in his head. The second dead one was one of Dad's personal body guards. The two survivors, facing me, were my Mom and Dad. Dad was holding a gaze of steel towards two mercenary gunmen that were pointing assault blasters at him in turn. Directly in front of me, and between his two mercs, was a black bat with a blood red lining around his wings. He was wearing a long black over coat; which was all I could see of his dress from the back. My mom was kneeling on the floor as though she just took a strong blow to the gut, the slow trickle of blood leaking from her muzzle onto the floor.

"Karen!" my dad barked. "Get the hell out of here!"

Apparently my flashy entrance caught a bit too much attention, because both of the shooters and the leader turned to face me. For the first time in my life, I directly disobeyed my father.

Stupid me.

"Ahhh... this must be the daughter I heard so much about..." the bat said to me. I knew the face... but at the time I couldn't place where I saw it before. All I know is that he was holding my parents at gunpoint. Here I was, this little sixteen year old girl thinking I could take down the three full grown men that put my parents into submission.

I didn't care about the odds at the time. Not wasting a second, I squeezed off a shot and dove to the my left behind one of the navigations console. With a _crack, _a yelp and a _thump_ just a second after my own landing, I knew I killed one of the shooters.

Still behind the console, I heard a spirt of blaster fire that heralded a ton of sparks coming down above me. I didn't scream; O'Donnells don't feel fear. This was only doubly proven when I heard my dad's feral roar and someone getting knocked onto their ass. Since the shooting stopped, I could only surmise that it was the other merc.

Taking the chance dad gave me, I popped out of cover and took a pot shot at the leader, who side-stepped blindingly fast out of the way while pulling out his own blaster. I just barely got under cover again before he took the shot. More sparks above my head.

I heard another shot right after, and a yelp from my dad. I knew right there that it was too late for him. Another _thump._ Before I was ready to shoot again, I was grabbed by the collar of my shirt and hauled out above my cover. The bat's other grubby hand closed around my shooting wrist.

It all happened so fast... I looked into his eyes, a fury that made my own pale in comparison. Whoever the guy was, he was one _sick fuck_. His brown eyes didn't tell a tale of a mission I had just put in jeopardy, or an agenda I just tried to get in the way of... it was just a pure will for destruction. It was my turn to be scared. His hand was squeezing the air out of me. It was time to die. So much for never feeling fear. He spoke to me like a viper from hell. "You and your ilk were always so weak... I've waited for this moment for a _long _time... the beginning of the end."

Mom thought otherwise. "Put... her... down..." I heard her growl.

As suddenly as the monster gripped me, the familiar golden blur of Dawn O'Donnell's staff smashed into the skull of my father's murderer. I was dropped ontop of the navigation console again, my paw to my throat struggling for breath. There I writhed until I heard mom cry out in pain. I cursed myself for my weakness. Reaching for my weapon, I rolled off the table and pointed it at the direction I heard her.

It was too late. Mom and Dad were strewn on the floor together in pools of their own blood. I was next.

I swung the pistol around quickly, spotting the bat as he plunged towards me at blinding speed, but my reflexes served me well again. The loud report of my pistol sent the bastard sprawling to the floor mid dash, a splatter of blood on the floor behind him. I got a decent hit on his shoulder. His scream of pain was only half satisfying, though- considering what it had cost me.

I should have stayed. I should have finished him off then and there; his groans of pain beckoned for me to do it, but my nerves were shot to hell. With one last look at the bridge... the image of my dead parents that would haunt me for the rest of my life... I turned around and ran. I guess I figured blood loss would finish the bastard off... or more likely I probably didn't care. All that mattered was getting the fuck out of dodge.

Reason clicked back into place as I ran randomly down the halls. I couldn't escape him just by running; I needed to get off the Executor. That guy's goons would be all over the ship. My instinct for self preservation told me to get the hell on the nearest escape pod... so that's what I did. My two friends from earlier, the doberman and the husky, skidded around a corner and raised their rifles. Too late. Two quick snaps from my Tyrael and their hearts were smoking craters. I kept on the move, watching my surroundings, and checking the charge on my pistol. ¼ left and I didn't have a spare energy cell for it on hand.

I was lucky not to find any others before I got to the escape pods, which were thankfully near the bridge as opposed to having to run all the way to the stern to the hangar. I flung myself into one clumsily and sealed the door behind me, quickly turning around in the cramped, barrel-like chamber. I started the launch sequence that was programmed into my memory... one of the many useful things I learned from my father.

The father that was now a dead sack of meat on the bridge of his own flagship.

When the pod fired from the side of the ship, I was gratified to know that whoever took over the ship didn't have a man on the weapon controls yet... No ships guns fired after me as I plunged into the atmosphere.

As I descended, I had a moment to think. What did weakling me do instead? I cried like the little girl I was. I dropped the pistol on the empty seat beside me, and for the first time in my life, I sobbed. Tears ran down my cheeks like rivers and I outright _wailed._

I never cried like that before, and I never would again. I burned out every tear I ever could for the rest of my life as the pod streaked through the Kewian skies. I was just a spoiled kid who never had anything go the wrong way... and who had it all taken away in the span of a couple minutes. My sorrow was quickly replaced by enough rage to make my blood boil, and I remembered where I saw the face... the face of my fathers murderer.

The face of my fathers former squad mate, Vincent Xavier. The one who disappeared just before I was born. Questions of _how_ I was going to avenge my parents would wait. All I did then was burn the face into my mind... and the name. The heat of my anger was like a searing forge, welding his image permanently into the forefront of my mind.

My blubbering was interupted by the proximity alarm yelling at me to start landing procedures. My paws soaked with tears, I gripped the landing thruster controls, looked out the viewscreen, and almost broke my teeth clenching them together in realization. Like a moron, I didn't aim the pod, and now I was going to land right the middle of what looked like Lusterstone city... the only major government-held city on the planet. Just when I thought my luck couldn't get any worse.

I aimed the pod for an empty looking street... it was all I could do. The cops would be all over me in seconds after I crashed, and I was probably going to be taken into interrogative custody. Even though I had technically not committed a crime in my life, just being the daughter of Warlord O'Donnell would probably land me the death penalty. The polititians of the Kew Government remnant were ruthless in their punishment of those who took their ill-earned power out from under their boots like an unsecured carpet... even to the point of murdering teens that were known associates of powerful crime lords.

I didn't care at the time though, I was still reeling about the deaths of my parents. Another idiot move on the part of my past self.

The cheap G-Diffuser in the pod blew like a used fuse when I hit the ground, but thankfully it did it's job before dying and I could barely feel the impact. Not wasting a second, I picked up my mostly spent pistol and stumbled out of the broken open hatch onto the street. Suddenly blinded by the dust of impact, I stumbled forward clumsily through the rubble of the road I tore up on landing.

As if by some sick coincidence, the first thing I saw upon coming out of the sheath of dust was a cop. A fat looking dalmation in a black Lusterstone PD uniform was standing their wide legged pointing his shitty little C-Gear 20S blaster pistol at me like it would have sent him flying in recoil if he had the balls to pull the trigger.

I pointed my own blaster at him as he yelled "Freeze! Or... Or I'll shoot!" The weakling was intimidated by me, a sixteen year old girl. Maybe it was the fire in my eyes, or the pace that I walked towards him with my miltary grade pistol pointed at his ugly mug. Did I fire? Not yet. I thought maybe I could scare him into getting out of my way. I would never get out of prison if I killed anyone... at least I was capable of thinking _that _far.

In my blind marching I heard more cops pull up all around the pod, and I froze in my tracks. I didn't have to turn around to hear the shuffling of combat boots and the cocking of more powerful ballistic and laser assault rifles alike.

I heard a more confident voice behind me. He sounded like a middle aged man who had done his fair share of combat work. "Put the gun down, kid, and this doesn't have to get messy. You can come out of this in one piece... just drop it on the ground."

I obeyed. I raised my hands in the air while dropping my precious weapon, and the cops closed in on me like flies to shit. In seconds, I was face down on the dusty pavement and cuffed. The same voice spoke to me again, but I never saw the face. "You're under arrest for possesion of illegal weaponry, threatening an officer and flight in illegal airspace. Anything you.... holy shit."

I was saying the same thing in my head. He must have seen the O'Donnell clan symbol on the side of the dropship.

"That's the... Shit! This is O'Donnell's kid!" I always enjoyed how mere mention of my last name was enough to make a grown man shit himself.

An older man's voice, probably her commanding officer, spoke next. "We need to get her inside where her dad's goons can't get her out... and fast. This might be the leverage we need."

I finally spat out my thoughts on the matter. "You blind idiots... do you not stop to think for a second about why I would have been aboard an escape pod?" A condenscending reaction like that was only typical for me, despite the situation.

I was flipped over onto my back by one of my captives, and the two speaking voices were finally given an image to match. The one who was rough handling me was a younger racooon in a black combat suit holding a bigger assault blaster I didn't recognize off the top of my head. The elder, standing up straight in a brown overcoat, was an old golden furred bloodhound. Both wore golden badges as clear as day on their chests.

The elder shook his head. "You can tell us all about it from the other side of cell bars."

I wasn't going to tell those government pigs fuck all. Hell, the escape pod told them too much already.

=-=-=-=

_One Week Later, June 13th 34 PLW_

_Lusterstone Police Precinct 103_

_1620 Hours, Lusterstone City Time_

=-=-=-=

I laid back, relaxed, on the tiny, shitty "bed" that was standard to every jail cell. It was just one of the "one nighters" in the basement of the cop shop they brought me to, where I was supposed to be held before I could be transferred to a place with "more suitable security measures". I was only sixteen, and the cock suckers were so sure that I was a bloody murderer that they were going to throw me in a maximum security dog house so they could use me as a bargaining chip to blackmail my dad. Unfortunately for them, that plan wasn't going to work so well now that he was dead.

They had me there for a whole week, sending down crappy scrap food that was a huge drop from the lavish meals that I was used to aboard the Executor. Along with the food, they would always send down some cheap "negotiator" in a stupid looking suit to ask me questions that I wouldn't dare give him the answer to... things like account numbers, client names, Dad's current location (HA!), information about his slave trades, drug running routes and methods... I didn't even tell them my first name, although they were at least compotent enough to find that out on their own.

Like it was some victory worthy of a damn parade, my "capture" was all over the press. Apparently this was the biggest blow they had on my dad ever. Ironic, really. It took his untimely death for them to make any progress on his case. They still didn't even know_ that _much.

Today was different though. It was almost four thirty; second meal time, and the time they sent the idiot suit down. What did I get instead? That pudgy dalmatian in full uniform with a look of defeat in his eyes.

Not even looking straight at him, I cracked a grin. "What's the matter, bacon bits? You look like you woke up on the wrong side of your mother this morning."

No stupid rebuke, no snappy comeback. Just a frown. "You've been released."

I didn't believe him at first, but he sounded so _serious._ "I thought your boys put such a big bail price on me that not even my dad would try to pay it? What happened to that?"

"Apparently someone who really likes you had five hundred grand to throw around."

I burst out laughing, almost rolling off the bed. "Five...only five hundred?" I rolled onto my stomach and onto the cold cement floor, laughing to hard too care that I hurt my arm a bit in the process. When I had enough laughs out of my system to sit up properly, I did, wiping a tear out of my eye. "You _idiots_ thought that a paltry sum like _that_ was going to keep me behind bars?"

"Well, apparently your daddy doesn't love you as much as you thought, because it wasn't him that paid it." The fat sack of shit had a grin on his face. Must have felt _real_ smart.

"That's because he's _dead_, you pudgy twat..." I couldn't pass off the opportunity to rub their stupidity into his face, despite that I swore to myself not to tell a soul about my dad. I figured they would find out soon enough anyway.

Ahh, the look of genuine suprise he gave me. As stupid as he was a lardass. He had to shake his head to get back into the game. "Well, anyway, apparently you have one hell of a guardian angel because your parole was paid."

Then it came to me. This guy meant it... but my dad was dead, who would seriously think to release me? My family was a hated enemy of this entire city. The cop waddled his way over to the cell, pulled out a ring of keys, and opened the door for me. He even had the common sense to stand back a meter or so after opening it. I guess he wasn't _all_ stupid.

My savior showed his face coming down the stairwell into the basement. The first thing I saw was the blue plumage of his legs when he descended which grew into one of the most famous pilots in Lylat history, and the only man other than my own parents I could relate to in his stupid "team reuinions" he dragged me to every year.

Falco Lombardi.

"I suppose I have you to thank for this timely release?" With thoughts of freedom scurrying around my mind, it suddenly occured to me that I had been in the same clothes for the past week. The first thing I needed upon getting out of there was a shower and a change of dress.

"Don't thank me, kid. I _know_ you have the means to pay me back." Still the cocky, self righteous scoundrel I remembered him as. He was _awesome. _He was right, of course. Dad always kept an emergency bank account topped up with five million credits for me to use in emergencies just like this one. It would be enough for me to buy a place and get myself started again and last me at least ten years before I would have to find a way to scrape together my keep. I may have left my wallet on the Executor, but thankfully I knew the guy who kept our family's accounts and could make a withdrawl by going straight to him.

He beckoned me to follow him up the stairs into the precinct, and I followed. "I'm just suprised you of all people would care enough to bust me out. What's your deal?"

"I owed your dad that much, he saved my feathery ass a few times when he was still a pilot. He also showed me to that awesome banker of yours so I could start up my PMC... practically owe my whole business to him." Cops going about their business watched us as we leisurely walked our way down the precinct main hallway towards the front doorway; some of them stunned that I was on the loose. I ignored them outright.

Being out of prison finally gave me the peace of mind to let Dad's death catch up to me again. My expression dropped into one of sorrow. "So you heard, huh?" our conversation was kept ignorable by the hustle and bustle of animals carrying on with their business, none recognizing me or the legendary pilot leading me on as we made our way down the street.

"Yeah, the news was all ova' MercNet. "The Great Wolf O'Donnell, Killed!". I was as shocked as the next guy... worse is that no one knows who did it. A lot of guys are out right pissed off about it; he was a big source of cash flow and now all those guys that worked for him are freelancin' again. It's gonna be pretty hairy for a while until someone jumps up and takes his place." We were finally out the front doors, and I breathed in the only half-fresh city air like it was a strawberry smoothie. Still smelled like shit, but it was better then that damn prison. He started up the sidewalk, and I stayed close on his tail. Our conversation was kept ignorable by the hustle and bustle of animals carrying on with their business, none recognizing me or the legendary pilot leading me on as we made our way down the street. When his fingers reached into his pocket to pull out a set of keys, I knew he had a hovercar nearby. "Anyway, where should I be droppin' you off?"

I spotted the sports car that _must_ have been his. It was a pitch black car that looks like it was pulled right off of a race track and given a more conventional paint job. The skirts around her were pretty low except where they raised a bit at the four hover-pad points where wheels usually were on ground-traction cars. The only things that weren't a sparking black were the mirror pylons and the big razor blade spoiler on the back, all of which were a shining silver. Falco headed over to the drivers side. A press of the little control pad attached to his keyring making both doors open up automatically. I set myself down in the refreshingly comfortable passengers seat. "Before I do anything, I need to stop by Bertino's to withdraw some of my dad's cash, not to mention have the five hundred grand transferred to your account. Then, I need to go buy a place out in the country side to chill at for a while until I can do something with myself... it's all I can do, really."

He started the hover car, and it raised about a foot off the ground, staying nice and stable while the repulsor-lift pads warmed up. "Good, your head's right in the game... your dad'd be proud, kiddo." He took us out of our parking spot, about thirty feet into the air, and we were off. Away we went weaving through skyscrapers on the way to my dad's finance office. I didn't give Falco a response, so he continued. "I know I might sound like a dick askin' this, Karen, but I gotta ask it anyway. Do you have any idea who did it? A lot of people are hunting the bastard, and we can have him dead by the end of the week... all we need is a name."

I considered telling him, but in the end, I wanted to keep the taste of revenge for myself. "I do know, but I want to be the one to pull the trigger... I'll find him myself."

I expected for him to nag me on, but he was suprisingly understanding. He gave me a brisk nod and returned his attention to the skies in front of him. "Alright, I get it. Really, I didn't think you'd want it any other way. If anyone deserves to put the bastard out of his misery, it's you, kid."

"Quit calling me 'kid'."

"Well, that's one thing you gotta remember though; you still are. Don't go trying anything stupid until your plenty ready for it. I know that sound's a bit messed coming from me, but you know I'm right." To my suprise, we were already descending. Looking out the car window, I could see that we were in the slummier sections of the city. It was the red light district, home of the night clubs and barely-legal operations right on the edge of government "territory". In one of the buildings below us, there resided a good family friend; Julian Bertino. As I said, he was our dad's main man when it came to managing his fortunes. They made eachother rich through mutually beneficial deals... Bertino said jump, Dad said asked how high.

Falco took us down nice and gently in front of a dilapidated looking two floor building on a quiet looking corner. A bright neon sign labeled the building as the "_Bouncing Bunny Nightclub", _but those who required the services of the Kew criminal underworlds most skilled banker knew that that saltry name was a cover for so much more.

When I opened the door, Falco stopped me, putting his wing on my shoulder. I turned to face him, and he gestured towards the building. "Hey, you gonna' need a ride when you're done in there?"

I shook my head earnestly for the first time in a while rather than condenscending on the avian. "Nah... I'll buy a vehicle and a place while I'm here and take the new car straight there..."

"Aight. Take it easy." He let me go, and he almost closed the door before I stopped him, holding it open.

"And Falco?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks. For everything." I never said thank you to anyone before and meant it as much as I did there. Probably the first time I said anything even remotely that considerate at all... and when I reminded myself of that, I also reminded myself that it would probably be the last.

"Don't mention it, Karen. If you need anythin', work or whateva, gimme a call. I'll set you up with what I can." He tossed a card at me which I caught absent-mindedly, presumably the business card for his "private military corporation" not so cleverly named the Lombardi PMC. Ingenious name or not, they were well known in this sector of space for getting the job done right. On the card was the logo - a blue arwing with the white letters LPMC encased in a black border – along with his name, address and phone number. I pocketed it.

I let him close his door, and he took off behind me as I wandered into the unlit side entrance of the building. I had to stop breathing through my nose upon entering, I forgot how much Bertino and his guards smoked... the stairwell and the cement walled hallway I walked into smelled heavily of tobacco. I was hardly in a position to complain, though. Not only was he not expecting my visit, I probably didn't smell much better.

Two guards in black suits, not suprisingly with cigarettes in their muzzles, just gave me a nod before I entered. Apparently I was wrong, and he _was_ expecting me. Then again, news travels quickly in Lusterstone. He probably had an inside man at the police station give him a heads up that I was out of the can.

The old grizzly bear, in a beige tux behind a painted green wooden desk, leaned his head up from his computer when I entered his office. To no ones suprise, he practically wheezed when he spoke. He also spoke with a really strong accent irritatingly slowly, as though every word carried special significance. "Ahh! The young Karen O'Donnell... I would say this is a pleasant suprise, but then I would be lying! What can I do for the heir of the Warlord's fortune today?"

I couldn't help from cough from all the god damn smoke. I invited myself to the chair at my side of his desk. "I need to know a few things... like how much money is left in my father's accounts, and what I have access to. I also need to make a couple purchases while I'm here. I have to start from scratch and get out of dodge for a while."

"Hmmm. Yes, of course." He pulled his laptop closer to him, and got right to work, his fingers dancing across the keys. "I would offer you my advice, but it seems you already have a grasp on what needs to be done... yes?" he paused. "Ahh.. it appears I have some bad news for you. Your fathers accounts were hacked, somehow... most of his money is gone. I am afraid this is partly my fault, I didn't think past my nose when he was murdered... why _wouldn't_ they be after his money?"

"You're saying there's _nothing_ left for me to get started on?"

"Ah, but not everything is gone, young mistress O'Donnell... the emergency account that only yourself, your father and I have access to, is still safe. It appears he made a last minute transfer to your account, as well... perhaps in anticipation? Who can possibly know such things?"

"How much, then?"

"Right now your fortune amounts to twenty two million, six hundred and forty seven thousand, three hundred and twenty six credits... more than enough to get you moving again, yes?" he tried to laugh, but I instead recieved a wheezing cough. He seemed to enjoy himself anyway, regardless. I was of course, gratified... but the sudden deposit only raised more questions. Had Dad seen this coming? If he did, why didn't he mention it?

"And of course, you mentioned purchases... you'll be wanting a fully furnished home, a clean-and-cold vehicle, probably a grocery and supply delivery plan as well, hmm? I can supply all of these things, and you _know_ I only supply them at the most competitive prices... Only the best for the daughter of my twenty year business partner. I owe him much of my success, and such is the least I can do to repay my long debt."

I nodded. "Thanks, Julian. I'll trust your judgement and leave the specifics to you... take any work charges you want. I need to buy some new clothes and get to a hotel for the night."

"Ahh, of course. It will be done. I'll have a driver come and bring you anywhere you need. Also..."

"Huh?"

"Should I be bringing up my stock of.... special tools to have delivered to your new place?" He of course was referring to weapons. As he rightly guessed, I wanted revenge pretty bad... but Falco was even more right. I was only sixteen. I wasn't about to go on a one man war. Not yet. For the time being, I would simply live peacefully in the country side and gather as much information on Vince Xavier as I could. I would strike when the time was right... oh how I _longed_ to shed that bastard's blood.

"No... not yet. Don't be too dissapointed, though... I'll be taking a good look into your premium stock before long. I only hope that when that time comes, you're going to have all of the ammunition I'll want to buy."

The grizzly laughed again. "Ah! My child, that is what I like to hear! No call is as bittersweet as the call of revenge... and I haven't the slightest doubt that your father's murderer will be repaid in kind."

"More than that... He is going to die writhing in a pool of his own blood with nothing on his mind other than how his pathetic life was brought to an end by the last O'Donnell."

=-=-=-=

_Six Years later, 40 PLW_

_September 8__th_

_1022 Hours, Lusterstone City Time_

_Karen O'Donnell's Mansion_

=-=-=-=

While over the past six years I tried several times to move on, I never gave up the chase. Of all of the things I learned, the most dominant fact was that Vincent Xavier was a damn ghost. He was as pro as they get. I had my eyes and ears on every source possible looking to hints as to his location or activities, and sometimes I got a snippet or two, but never enough to know where he was hiding...

Or _why_ he was hiding, for that matter... other than the fact that I was going to tear his guts out, of course.

Outside the pursuit of my parents' murderer, I built a decent life for myself. A lonely one, but decent. Despite my surplus of cash, I signed up with Falco's mercenary shop for odd jobs to keep my edge sharp. I was already a good fighter, but I only got better as I went. Bounty hunting, drug runs, debt collection, competition elimination, I dug my bloody paws into it all. As a result, my fortune _increased_ rather than shrunk.

Kew, being a predominantly grey, rocky world, the mansion I had been living in for the past six years was about the best I could get landscape-wise. It was a three floor place built into a steep mountain face. The driveway and the garage both were built right into the rock, leading to the road that ran on into the horizon for about twenty five kilometers before it hit the border of Lusterstone. It felt a bit odd at first, living with a spectacular view of the city I was trying to avoid, but after the first few months I got used to it. The house was a comfortable place with all the luxuries; a fitting place for someone of my position to grow up.

I was twenty two; and my transition into maturity treated me well. Working with the LPMC kept me in shape, and my efforts had granted me a stunning bod... not that I planned on letting anyone near it. I got hit on by some of the guys at Lombardi's base all of the time, and I turned them all down without a thought no matter _how_ good looking they were. I couldn't imagine myself in a relationship; I was in the business of removing peoples heads, not making out with them. I had six years to calm down about my parents death but the grudge, and my cynicism, both remained. I was no less of a badass bitch I was then and I was damn proud of it.

If any things developed over time that I was _really _proud about, it was my hacking skills and my armory. Spending all that time alone on the search for a ghost enemy forced me to learn the tricks of the information retrieval trade; Falco and Julian both hooked me up with some people that could show me the ropes, and I got to the point where the worry was less whether I could crack a secure system, but whether it was worth my trouble. Probably the best example of my prowess was how I had checked the Kew Government's secure databases every day, _remotely_, without having been caught. Walking into their mainframe was as routine as putting the coffee replicator on in the morning.

As I said, my armory grew too. I had long since outgrown my little Tyreal Mark 4, and had bumped up to a monstrocity of a pistol; the Ulysses 24H. I never liked lasers, they were too weak, clean, and had very little stopping power... gentlemen weapons. The 24H was a big bore ballistic pistol, and the executioners gun of choice with its sixteen shot extended magazine, positively mammoth 12" long barrel and enough stopping power to not only stop a man that is running at full speed, but knock him _backwards_ several feet, assuming the part of him I hit wasn't completely blown off. The first time I saw it in action in a video Julian showed me, I was almost dizzy with excitement. I kept it on me at all times, not only as a show of force, but a brilliantly intimidating playmate in a fight. The thing practically ignored cover. To top it off, I got it with a really cool shiny red and black finish that just _screamed_ "Alert: violent tendancies." I eventually started nicknaming it the Demon.

Other than my trusty sidekick, I had a few other toys I kept laying around too for when the situation arose: assault rifles, assault blasters, sniper rifles, knives of varying lengths and edge types, shotguns, sub machine guns, a couple of chain guns when I needed a bit of extra anti-vehicular muscle, rocket launchers for the same reason, a mountable rail gun, and my personal favourite: a flamethrower. The list went on. Suffice to say, I was ready for any party, and was paid appropriately for my trouble.

Well, _almost_ any party.

That night was just like any other that I had off. No contracts at the time, so I just bided my time digging through government files on my laptop. As always, I was dressed ready for combat, even though not once in that six years did I ever get someone try to breach my house. Maybe I just liked the weight of the Demon on my hip. Who knows? I was in a long pair of black cargos, a matching strapless top, and my cool black overcoat hanging on the back of my chair. The red and black Demon was in its holster on my belt, poking my leather office chair as I tapped my foot. As usual, nothing new.

Then I heard a noise. It wasn't the house heating system coming on, or any bells or whistles like that.

It was the door creaking open.

I guess whoever had the balls to come into my manor thought I was asleep, because only a moron comes through the front door otherwise. Still, the sound was so miniscule, my battle-hardened ears only barely picked it up. I started to worry; I thought an actual pro might have been trying to get inside.

When I heard a similar creak behind me from the back door, the entrance that led to a balcony that could only be reached if one climbed down from the cliff face fifty feet above. I knew my suspicions were correct. There was a fucking squad of trained soldiers in my house.

I quickly set my laptop to standby and silently closed it, pulling the Demon from it's holster. Making sure my back wasn't exposed, I backed into the bathroom directly behind me, and slowly closed the door. Then, I listened for footsteps.

After about a minute of waiting, I didn't hear anything. I started to think I was paranoid, but just to be safe, I slowly pushed the door open with the Demon leading the way. Starting from the right, my vision swept across to the left.

That was when I heard the footsteps. They were right around the corner. I froze like a statue, and watched as the leading end of an assault blaster I couldn't recognize in the dim light slowly crossed my view. That was the time to act.

Letting my left hand hold my gun, I swept around the corner to my left leading with my free fist, smashing it into the face of the intruder. With a fleshy impact noise he was dazed and fell to the ground, buying time I used to grab the assault blaster, pry it from his paws and smash the barrel end into the face of a comrade behind him. Neither of them reacted in time. The second dazed on the floor, I raised the Demon and pointed it at the head of the first one I hit, who froze on the spot.

As suddenly as I had subdued my targets, I felt the cold steel of a pistol suppressor on the back of my head. A confident male voice, around my age by my best guess, interupted my assault. "Stop. Cool it, and drop the gun."

I had no choice. The Demon fell to the tiled floor with a loud metallic clatter. Was that it? Did I just get ambushed by Vince's men and got caught with my pants down?

Not quite. "Turn around." the voice said again, and I complied; eager to get a look at my attacker.

Immediately I knew there was something odd with him. I had to squint in the reduced light, but his fur was...

Blue? "...Marcus?"

"Karen?" Marc's eyes grew wide. I hadn't seen him in years; not since the team reunion only days before my dad died. Questions sprang up in my mind. Who was he working for? What did he want? And most importantly, what the _fuck_ was he doing pointing a gun at me in my own house?

He lowered his pistol. "Captain Ley! Target secured!"

"Good." The cool, female voice was soon joined by a body as she stepped out of a dark corner. She was an older looking leopardess, in a black combat suit holding a supressed sub machine gun with one paw. "Although, we could have gone without the two friendly casualties."

The first one that I hit, who I now identified as a brown furred lion, groaned. "Oh, comon, Cap! She totally knew we were coming. I heard Marc open the front door from the other side of the fucking house!"

The other one I hit, who I identified as a skinnier looking hare, kept his mouth shut. It looked like I hit him pretty hard. _Good._

"No excuses, Sergeant." she shook her head. "Anyway, considering the fact she isn't tied up on the ground yet, I assume you know her?"

Marcus turned around to the one he called Captain Ley and nodded. "From my childhood, ma'am. She's a friend of the family. Her name's Karen O'Donnell."

"O'Donnell, huh? Tell me, kid, what's your take in Cornerian affairs? Why are you trying to track the tech thief so hard?"

Tech thief? I was boiling. What the fuck was this bitch talking about? Not to mention she called me _kid_. I hated that. "The only person I've been tracking is my fathers murderer. You're telling me he's been pissing around Corneria, too?"

Marcus and Ley exchanged looks of genuine worry, before he looked back at me again. "I think you better come with us. If what you say is true, and the same guy that attacked the CDF weapons lab on Titania was the same guy who stole the O'Donnell fortune, we have problems."

"Big problems..." the lion on the ground behind me said.

"And if I refuse?" I rebuked.

Ley tilted her SMG up, resting it on her shoulder. "We're not really giving you a choice."

I'm not sure why I asked, to tell the truth. I was intrigued; I hadn't heard about any attacks on military research bases. Then again, here I was out in the middle of nowhere. It never really occured to me that I might have found more leads on Vince if I went to the Lylat core worlds... maybe this was the one I was looking for for the past six years.

"Fine, but I'm bringing my gun. Period."


	3. Marie and Aryn

_ Foxmerc. You would have been able to guess the model before but I deviated too much as I hammered out her personailty to be more unique. Maybe you still can, but I doubt it. Five gold stars to you if you do._

_EDIT: Last third of the chapter has been edited drastically. You'll want to read it again. Chapter 4 is on the way._

* * *

_**Chapter Three: Marie and Aryn**_

_"Follow that will and that way which experience confirms to be your own."__ ~Carl Jung_

_=-=-=-=_

_Friday, April 20th, 38 PLW_

_Cornerian University of Aerospace Science_

_Lecture Room 203_

_1522 Hours_

_=-=-=-=_

It had been two months since Marc was carted off to Katina for his super soldier training, and my second year of University was in it's final throes. Despite the final rush for exams, nothing could make Prof. Greyson's lectures less boring. I was often told that most of the will to listen to the boring stuff came from knowing its significance to your area of study... and if that was true, I either didn't think astrophysics was my area of study, or I simply didn't care about science in general.

All I cared about when I was picking out programs was impressing my parents. I didn't realize just how big of a commitment I was making when I decided to delve into the biggest geek fest possible... and now I was paying for it.

There was no summer-holiday excitement despite the fact our final exams were only a weekend away. I was as sleepy and laid back as I was through _every_ lecture. I don't even know how I would have got even this far if Aryn hadn't been around to let me copy his notes. I was really lucky to have him around; I'd known him since we were in diapers and yet he ends up being the son of the teacher of my hardest courses.

Lecture room 203 was the most drab room imaginable for an equally drab subject; _Advanced Astronomy II. _At first it was the easiest course I had, because we were going through basics like planet identification and labeling; but as soon as we got into how specific conditions on a planet affect certain features, like tectonic activity and the presence of water, the sleeping cap went on. The room was a stereotypical, beige walled lecture chamber with a podium at the front where Professor Greyson stood in front of a large chalkboard coated in all kinds of random crap I wasn't paying attention to. I was in the back row, elevated above his peering gaze, my chin resting on an empty note page with my eyes fluttering open with every exclamation in his speech, only to flutter closed again. Sleep was so close...

"... leading to a catastrophic...."

"... only in perfect conditions can a ...."

"... is an effective solution to this problem, although..."

"... end of the day, but can we make an effort to pay attention, Miss McCloud?"

Mention of my name snapped me awake like an alarm clock. All of the dozens of eyes in the classroom were on me. Great.

"Err, yes, professor. I'm sorry."

"You've been sorry each of the two hundred twenty six times I've caught you. Can I not have your attention for at least the last one?"

"You counted?"

"I only need count the amount of lectures I've given you, because you have fallen asleep for every single one." Boom. Mass laughter. I couldn't offer him a rebuke, and I certainly wasn't up for defending myself when I was surrounded by eager, waiting eyes just _demanding_ that I do something funnier. The professor simply shook his head, and continued. The attention of the room quickly slided back to him and the laughing quieted... except for one pair of eyes. Aryn's. My eyes met his, but all he could offer me was a shrug. After granting him a smile, I shifted my focus back to Mr. Greyson.

"Now, before I let you all go, allow me to remind you that your final exams will be in this room, Monday morning at ten o'clock. Bring ink pens _only_, as all other equipment and essentials shall be provided. You are dismissed."

The relative quiet of the classroom was shatttered by the sudden shifting of desks, budding conversations and the shuffling of coats and book bags. Being very quick to toss my notebook in my backpack, I was in front of the wave squeezing through the door at the bottom platform of the room.

I started down the hallway in the opposite direction of the parking lot and residence buildings that everyone else was heading for... I was heading to the "Community wing" to clock in some time at the flight simulators. Well, they weren't true flight simulators persay, more of an arcade game, but they were still plenty of fun. As I walked, apparently alone, I heard another set of footsteps rapidly approaching me from behind. Realizing there was only one person who would bother following me around, I didn't bother turning to see who it was.

"Uhh, Marie?" the snow leopard Aryn Greyson was hot on my tail, quickly catching up and matching my pace. "Are you going to the flight sims _again?_"

I gave him a confident smile. "Of course! What better a way to burn time on a friday night?"

He didn't buy my ruse, his expression was one of genuine worry. "Marie, I _know_ you aren't ready for the exams next week. I... I can help you study, if you let me-" I reserved a giggle in my head. He absolutely _refused _to let me down.

I interupted him. "I appreciate it, Aryn, but I just wanna shoot off some steam. I'll study with you tomorrow, okay?"

He sighed with vexation. "Well, I might as well waste a few credits in the arcade with you, then, considering I'm actually _ready_ for the exams." Since we first started taking classes together, the only times he would every speak upfront with me was when he knew he had the upper hand in some important matter or another. He was a sweetheart, sure, but he was always naturally compelled to condenscend on people he knew were dumber than him.

Meaning, pretty much everyone. He could probably program an auto pilot to land a cargo freighter on a rotating asteroid before a breathing pilot in a space superiority fighter could make the same landing.

The community center wasn't far away from room 203, a large archway in the brick wall pulled us in. It was probably my favourite place in the whole school. Being the junkier of the two food courts, there were several big chain fast food restaurants with their booths set into the wall all along the right side, with rows of circular tables and their attached seats convenienly placed near them. The other side was the "recreation corner", or for those of us younger than fifty, the Arcade. There were a few people in the wing, some doing homework at the food court tables or actually eating, and a couple people at the arcade... but it was pretty quiet. The dull rumble of limited chatter in the big room wasn't any louder than a whisper to an observer. No suprise, considering everyone would be immediately heading home for the weekend.

There were some _really_ old machines in there, but a few of them were freshly installed; like the flight sim games. Some of them were actually pretty realistic and challenging. Being the freak-behind-the-yoke that I am, I only went for the most skullbustingly hard ones. Aryn did too, but I wasn't sure if that was a coincidence or not. I tried to respark our conversation. "So, which games have you been into lately?"

Aryn stopped by one of the open pods; like eggs with hinged doors on them with a pretty decent replica of a fighter cockpit inside. "Um... Raging Skies Two is pretty good, good challenge. Er, good fun, I mean."

I scoffed. "Oh, comon Aryn, I know you can do better than that. Lets break into some Gauntlet Run Three!"

"Are you serious? I thought that game got a whole bunch of crappy reviews because they made it too hard."

"Too hard for people that _suck, _anyway. Are you gonna try it with me, or not?" It was a rhetorical question, of course. It was hard feeling guilty for taking advantage of his dogged crush on me; it was too much fun to mess with him. I moved to one of the appropriately labeled pods and hopped in. I saw him roll his eyes, but he grabbed the pod opposite of me. As the lid descended, I was thrown into darkness only lit by the screens simulating the cockpit windows. Screw astronomy. The cockpit was where my mind was... as much as Mom would always tell me to avoid the life of a pilot the best I could... it just felt right with me. Maybe because I knew there was a life of excitement in it, or maybe because I felt I could make a difference behind the yoke. I didn't care at the time really. Those were just simulators. Video games. The only thing I was shooting at was a hunk of data in the pod's hard drive... a comforting realization every time I snapped my head back into reality.

I grabbed the cheap plastic headset from a hook on the roof and put it on, then jammed a couple of credit chips into the slot on the console in front of me. The cockpit screens, once randomly cycling through gameplay footage, all stopped moving and showed me a menu. The game's AI voice spoke.

**"Welcome to Gauntlet Run III! Please select a-"**

"Yeah, yeah, I know all this already." Thankfully, although the AI in these machines were simple and cheap, the could at least understand commands to skip useless or redundant information. "Load profile Star Fox Three, password I hate quantum mechanics."

**"Profile loaded. Welcome back, Marie McCloud. Please select a difficulty and stage."**

"Turn the difficulty up to level ten, and... oh..." Picking a stage was the hard part. What did I feel like doing? There was a stage for each planet in the Lylat system, each with a different type of mission. "Go to Katina. I'm up for a turkey shoot."

A turkey shoot is exactly what that was; it was a replica stage of the battle for Katina forty years ago... the impossible battle that my own dad intervened in when he was even younger than me, and ultimately allowed the Cornerians to win. It was characterized by a featureless landscape, and a veritable ton of low quality fighters bearing down on you to the point where it was difficult to manuever without accidentally crashing into another fighter, friend or foe alike.

A prime candidate for someone like me, just looking for an excuse to lay on the trigger finger to relieve some stress. Maybe that desire in combination with maximum level difficulty was kind of dumb, but my day wouldn't be complete without showing up Mr. Genius in the player two pod, would it?

The moment the AI was finished processing my request, I was plunged into a virtual battlefield as realistic looking as the actual thing. This game always put you into the cockpit of an old Comet class snub fighter, the standard shieldless, bomb-less, lock-less, single laser tin can that pilots were forced to bludgeon into combat with when Andross caught them all with their pants down. Every time the stats of the vessel went through my mind I would feel a twang of remorse for every man that lost their lives in one of those tin cans... but at least the flying skeets that were the Invader-II fighters that swarmed that planet were even worse. I had a maneuverability advantage on them, which was plenty enough.

My fighter was auto-piloted out of the big pyramid building in the center of the battlefield, and as soon as I was up in the air, I was given control of my fighter. The word **"GO!"** was flashed across my screen. Also, smaller, less conspicuous text on the LCD display in front of me offered me an alert. **"AGxTHExSCIENCExGUY has joined the game."** A green downwards arrow coloured green with a big A in the center was flashing on my canopy window signifying Aryn's location.

I grinned. "Last to one-fifty kills buys dinner!"

My headset crackled to life, Aryn being equally enthusiastic. "You're on!"

.... He was close, but I was _really_ hungry, and didn't want to wait until I got back to the dorms to eat.

* * *

=-=-=-=

_1703 Hours_

=-=-=-=

An hour and a half later, after Aryn treated me to his promised fast food dinner and we said our goodbyes, I found myself wandering the halls alone. They were pretty muched emptied out save janitorial staff here and there carrying out their final daily rounds. I was heading to the library that I know was always open until at least seven every night. I promised myself to take two hours of studying without any chance of social interuption, then I would go all out with some of my girlfriends the next day.

Rather than thinking about how I was going to manage gaining a thorough knowledge of a subject I had previously paid no attention to in three days, my mind was dwelling on Aryn. He was such a dork but... I was starting to like him back. We were always childhood friends, so at first I didn't think to react to his crush as any more than a phase he was going through, and that he would eventually gain some sense and back off.

But he didn't... and I was starting to think maybe he actually loved me. It was an uncomfortable thought at the time. Not a scary one, a gross out or an out right rejection... I just didn't think I was ready. Did I like him? Kinda. He was cute, dedicated, smart, and didn't have a bad body either but...

I have to admit, I dwelled on that fleeting thought for a moment. Ohh... I could just see him on top of me, pinning my arms to the headrest and sending his paw snaking up my thigh to my.....

That's enough of that.

They say Mr. Opportunity knocks at least once in someones life. As I continued down the hall, I could have swore I heard him when I noticed a door I had always ignored. It was completely lacking in labels or other features other than two: A black plate sign with bold white text. "STUDENT EXAMINATION RECORDS. STAFF ONLY.", and a small window that offered no light from the inside. No one was there.

Was I a mischevious person? Some times... but even then I couldn't believe I was considering what I was about to do. My drive to avoid the painful efforts of studying begged me to go inside. It would be as easy as picking the door with my hairpin and I could just waltz in and nab one of the marked tests from the previous year's class... there was no one else in the hall, and I couldn't see any cameras nearby.

Checking my surroundings again, I decided to test my luck, quickly pulling my hairpin out and bending it into an appropriate shape. Another trick that Aryn taught me, ironically. He was such a golden boy but couldn't resist the call of invention and tinkering; one time when we were younger we wanted access to my dad's old hangar shed just out of curiosity... I had to see the Arwing with my own eyes. Aryn looked up on the extranet how to make a lockpick out of a hairpin and that was that.... I got in trouble when my dad heard the accidentally started Arwing's engines, but it was all worth it in the end.

Was my exhibitionism going to be worth it this time, though? Only one way to find out.

My efforts were shortly rewarded with the musical tumbling of the locks into the open position, and my heartbeat picked up as the door swung open for me. I closed it behind me quietly, pulling out my persacom and turning on the screen to offer a makeshift flashlight.

The room was pretty big, lined with filing cabinet after filing cabinet all labeled with a course code and a teacher name. Not spending a second of trespassing more than I had to, I quickly scanned one after the other before discovering they were in alphabetical order by the Prof.'s last name. I scimmed down a couple of aisles towards where I thought I would find G.

Sure enough, the GREYSON, SKYE cabinet was in my grasp moments later. I was gratified to find it wasn't locked. I pulled the drawers open, flipping through courses that were organized by folder until I found my mark. Bingo... last years Astronomy II exam papers.

"Marie McCloud... What am I going to do with you?"

My heart froze, slowly turning around to find the _last_ person in the world I wanted to. Professor Greyson. How I didnt hear him walk in or open the door, I would never know. But then I remember the stories of what he used to be before a teacher... and before a Star Fox pilot... a special forces officer.

The snow leopard was standing there, in his lab coat with his paws to his hips, shaking his head. I imagine if I saw the look on my own face I would have laughed; but at the time I was shaken with pure terror, and my facial expression reflected that in kind. I didn't know what to say, so I stood there like a deer in the headlights.

"I _would_ have let you go in any other circumstance, but the thermal cameras in this room already caught you. I think we had better go to my office and have a little talk."

I obeyed. What choice did I have? He started for the door and I was on his tail; the question of _how_ he had tracked me so easily springing to mind. My horrified expression melted to one of pure shame, but Skye didn't turn around to face me. "Your parents are going to be furious. I know I would be, if Aryn was in your position."

I croaked. "You're going to call my parents?"

"Well, would you rather be the one to tell them you've been expelled?"

I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. "Ex...Expelled?!"

"I doubt you read the registration information package to know, but there's no second chance for something like this. I'll soften the blow as much as I can, but the fact remains that your career here is officially over."

I bowed my head. That was it then. I threw two years down the drain just like that. A thin trail of tears were left in my wake on the hallway floor.

"You know, I wouldn't be too devastated if I were you. For one, your parents can _very_ easily afford your attendance here, so financially, this isn't a problem. Your educational record will be botched completely, but I have a feeling that you have a different calling altogether. It wouldn't have come to any suprise to either myself if you had failed out _regardless_ whether you successfully cheated or not... your passion obviously lies elsewhere."

I would have argued, but I was definitely not in the place to anger the man who was going to be telling the story of my failure to Mom and Dad... but I did have a question. "What do you mean?"

"Aryn often speaks of your scorings in the flight simulators in the community wing. Have you never considered taking up your fathers love for flying? It appears to have passed down nicely through your lineage."

"Those... they're just video games, professor. I doubt I would be any good in an actual fighter."

"That is for your father to decide, I think." He pulled a key out of his white lab coat and stopped at the door I knew lead to his office. He cracked it open, and tossed the coat aside onto the floor messily before turning the light on, revealing a very simple white T-shirt and blue jeans underneath. It was kind of hard looking at him in a non-professional light after him being my teacher for two years, but I supposed I could get used to it again. "Regardless, I think now is the time for you to stop calling me professor. I always hated that title. If I were a mere professor I wouldn't be actively creating new weapons for the military. President Toad, Lt. Commander Spaniel, Dr. Trace, and heres me, the one who invented the G-Diffuser, the lowly _professor_. I would like to think I _earned_ my three doctorates, considering I had to take them all _again_ upon regaining my Cornerian citizenship."

He shook his head with a sigh, taking a seat behind his desk. For the first time, I noticed his significant collection of awards and diplomas all framed neatly on the walls. "Before I call your parents, we need to discuss a couple of things." He beckoned to the chair in front of him, and I took it, my paws still clenched together in nervousness. My crying had stopped, but the tears I had shed left their marks in the matted down fur on my cheeks.

"Like?" I said weakly. I quickly tried to clear my throat.

"For one, do you _actually_ have an interest in learning to fly? It requires a dedication far beyond one of a student, and if you show the same enthusiasm for it as you do in _my _lectures I am afraid your doom is sealed."

I nodded. "I've always wanted to fly, but every time me or Marcus ever mentioned wanting to take up a military life I could always see that twinkle in their eyes... the one where I knew they were worried they would out live us... Mom cried for a week when Marcus ran off to military school." I paused, wiping away some of the tear droplets gathering on my fur. "I just wanted them to be happy with me, you know? I didn't want to put the pressure on them that I might never come home... I guess I was scared."

"Well, that's rather odd." He looked at me, apparently puzzled. "It was your own father that told me that he was distraught at the fact neither of you wanted to learn to fly. Have you never seen the way he looked at his old Arwing before he sold the machine? I think you very well may have improperly psychoanalyzed him. Your mother I cannot be positive about... but I am willing to bet your father would not be so ashamed if we were to tell him you dropped out to have him teach you to fly."

"You mean it?" I smiled for the first time since I left Aryn in the cafeteria. "You won't tell my parents what happened?"

He shook his head again, with a mild smile on. "I do however, need you to promise me something in return."

"Anything."

"You must, in turn, teach Aryn everything you learn... for when you inevitably start your own unit, you will need a certified Arwing mechanic. I do not want my son flying with you without him being _aptly _prepared for combat."

The request caught me completely off guard. Not only was he going so far to predict that I was going to be taking up my father's legacy completely, but he also predicted that Aryn would want to go with me. Who said I was even going to take up the life of a mercenary? Or even try for one of the military's few R64 model Arwing squadrons? Better yet, who said I _wanted_ to bring Aryn with me?!

I guessed that wasn't such a stretch, though, after I thought about it for a bit. What the hell else was I going to do? And who the hell else was I going to bring?

"I should probably warn you though, it's going to be difficult swaying your mother, not to mention hiding the fact you were expelled, considering her abilities."

It was my turn to shake my head. "Actually, she can't read family members, only talk to us. So, not a problem..."

"And as for the fact you're going to be following your brother onto the warpath?"

I sighed. It wasn't all going to be flowery meadows after all. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, I guess."

He reached for his phone. "Without further ado, then, let's get your parents on speakerphone. I think you had better let me do the talking, though."

"You'll get no agrument from me, professor."

"Can you at _least_ call me Doctor?" With one paw, he rapidly typed out my house comm number on his communicator, before pressing the "speaker-phone" button. We stayed silence as the tell-tale pending-response beeping filled the room.

_Click. "McCloud residence." _it was my dad.

"Fox?"

_"Skye! What's up?"_

"Unfortunately I am calling as a teacher rather than a friend, today, Fox. I'm here with Marie."

_"Huh? Is everything okay?"_

"Not entirely. You are probably already aware of her dwindling performance?"

An uncomfortable silence._"...Yes, go on."_

"Well, we had a chat today, and it appears she wishes to drop out from the program entirely."

_"What? ..You're not serious, right? I mean, I thought teaching physics was what she wanted to do so I..." _A pause. "_What the hell do you mean, Skye? She's just dropping out, just like that? It's been two years. I thought she was happy there."_

"It's best she catch herself before involving herself in a career she has no interest, in. Her attention has been waning for months, I don't think this should really be coming as a suprise."

"_No, I suppose not. Still, I hope she has an idea about what she wants to do now... and be _damn_ sure she wants to go through with this. I just... a hundred grand down the toilet. I ain't that rich anymore."_

"She admitted to me today that she wishes to take up flying when she submitted her resignation papers."

I was kinda perturbed that he said that, since he more or less shoved the suggestion on me as a last resort option, but I wasn't about to complain. I would _much _rather be in the cockpit than having to face my dad's wrath for being expelled. There was a long pause. "_... she did this without even talking to me first?"  
_

"Yes. Our conversation on the matter was only minutes ago. I suppose she wanted to wait before breaking the news."

"_... well... I'm suprised, to say the least. I have to admit... I didn't want to put that kind of pressure on my kid's shoulders. Taking up Star Fox was my choice, but now that it's my time to pass the torch on... you know? That's a lot of responsibility. Arwings are the most dangerous weapon ever created." _Another pause. "_You're sure she wants to go through with this?"_

"Ask her yourself, she's right here."

_"Fuck. Are you on speakerphone?"_

"No no, don't worry." He lied like a master of the art.

_"Okay."_

Skye nodded to me, and I just had to smile. I was delighted at how well Dad was taking it, even more delighted that Mr. Greyson would be willing to lie to my dad for me. I wiped off the remainder of the tears off my cheeks. "Hey, dad."

_"Hey, sweetheart. Hows it going?"_

I didn't really know where to start, so I just started babbling. "I'm so sorry about dropping out so suddenly like this... I..."

_"Hey, don't worry about it. I'd probably do the same thing in your position... well, kinda. You know what you're getting yourself into, right?"_

"Yeah. A life as a scientist is appealing and all but..." I tried to avoid saying anything bad about being a scientist _in front _of one. "I needed to get out before I dedicated myself to something I didn't wanna do, you know?"

_"I know how you feel. But... you know that I'm not gonna go easy on you, right? If you're going to learn to fly from me, I'm going to put you through the ropes like any of my students at the Academy. It's going to be hard, and it's going to be fast. You're going to have to work your ass off if you want to become an ace Arwing pilot. We're going to be in the air at least five hours a day if you're going to be up to my standard within the next year or two... that's a big commitment. I'm gonna drill you even harder than old Hare drilled me, because he had ten years to do it."_

"I understand... and I'm ready."

_"Alright. Since me and your mother sold the Arwings I'm going to talk to Slippy about requisitioning two for us to use... I should be able to get them off him cheap. I'm going to come pick you up in an hour, okay? Start packing up your stuff and I'll meet you at the dorms entrance to help you."_

"Okay. I'll see you in an hour."

_"I love you, Marie."_

"I love you too, Dad."

_Click._

Skye gave me the most hardened, sincere stare I had probably ever seen before I could stand up for the door. "Never forget what I asked of you, alright? It may seem odd now that I ask you to train Aryn, but you and I both _know_ that he is going to follow you... no matter what ridiculous situation you end up finding yourself in."

It appears I wasn't the only one aware of his crush on me. "I understand."

"I can only hope that I haven't misplaced my trust... and that Aryn hasn't misplaced his." His face melted into one more business-like. "Now... I have to fill out your expulsion forms, if you'll excuse me."

"Yes, of course." I stood up hastily. "And, pro-... err, Doctor Skye?"

"Hmm?"

"...Thank you." I said it so sincerely that had I posed it as a question it would have sounded desperate... well, I was, so I guess it was appropriate.

"Think nothing of it... just try to avoid stealing and trespassing for now on."

* * *

_=-=-=-=_

_A Year and a Half Later, 40 PLW_

_Monday, September 8th_

_During CSF Detachment Sierra's mission on Kew_

_Cornerian Mountains_

_1310 Hours_

_=-=-=-=_

I finished my Astrophysics program last year, so I had all the time in the world to dedicate to learning to fly from Marie, and learning to maintain these spectacular fighters from my Dad. The idea seemed like a pipe dream at first; starting a new Star Fox squadron? Marie? _Me?_ It became more believeable as we flew. Every time we took the Arwings out for a spin our goal seemed closer to the cusp of reality.

It was just like we did every week. I would drive over to the McCloud place, and Marie would take me up in the Arwing II's to show me everything she learned. Although, over time as we both got better there was less to learn and more to simply practice. Corneria had some good, challenging mountain terrain that we could mess around in and I could put this wondrous machine to the test... but I always knew I never brought it anywhere near it's limit. The G-Diffuser was an amazing thing, and it only boggled me more every time I was reminded my own father was the inventor. Lylatian kind's greatest invention, if you ask me. Now that I knew how they worked it only seemed more novel. A complex problem with a simple solution not so different from sustaining a stable subspace field in a bigger ship's warp drive. Brilliance.

Me and Marie were just off the ground and flying along the coast over the forests in all of their beautiful autumn colours. It was a good day for a flight; sun wasn't too bright, no clouds, no rain. Gorgeous. I hated flying in bad weather; one time there was a thunderstorm on one of our scheduled class days. It was so bad that tornado warnings were being issued across our eighth of the planet. Did Marie care? Nope. Up we went anyway, and what do you know? Tornado touches down and she plays around with it. Good creator, that was nerve wracking.

I was in proper wingmate position, behind her and slightly to her starboard... chasing her like I always was. It took three years, but I finally worked up the balls to ask her out a couple of months ago.

Well, I kinda asked her out... and she kinda turned me down, too. It was stupid, really. I just wanted to go with her in the Arwings up to the northern hemisphere to see the _aurora borealis _but nope. She was watching that stupid soap opera of hers. _"I'll go with you some other time, okay?"_ she said. We still haven't gone.

Fingers crossed for a relationship with the beautiful vixen or not, learning to fly was _really_ cool. So was the idea of becoming a pilot for the new Star Fox, and that would be enough for me. The Arwing II _blew my mind_... and a while ago, the famous President of Arspace Dynamics, Slippy Toad promised that he would have a new model for us if Marie's dad approved of our flying abilities. Can you believe that? _THE _fucking _Slippy Toad._ God amongst scientists and inventors, I swear. I would kill just to shake his hand.

Marie was starting to pick up speed, so I brought up my G-Diffuser power supply management display, a holographic panel that appeared in front of me as I hit a button on the dashboard, and transferred some power from the weapons to the engines. It wasn't like I was going to be blowing anything up, anyway. We never really got much shooting practice in, now that I think about it. Mr. McCloud took us up to the Meteo asteroid belt a couple times to shoot some rocks, but that was about it. All of our combat experience came from simulations run off of the Arwing II's operating system, safely parked on the ground.

My communication headset crackled to life as I took up position with her again, pulling back my throttle a bit to match speed. "_So, where do you wanna go today?"_

I wracked my brains. What _did_ I feel like doing? "Its a clear day, maybe we can just fly the mountain course again."

_"Nah... I think we've done enough terrain-following flying. We need something more challenging."_

Great. I knew right there that we were about to do something stupid, knowing her idea of challenging usually invovled certain death... the last time she wanted a "challenge" was when she flew through that damn tornado two months ago. My mouth spoke before my mind did. "Alright, what did you have in mind?"

_"Check your radar, you see that?"_

I took a look, and 'lo and behold there were five green blips at the extreme southern edge of my range heading outside of Corneria City. I checked their IFF tags....

Five model R64 Arwings.

_"_No. No way, Marie. Remember how much trouble we got into _last_ time we interupted one of your dad's classes looking for a dogfight?"

_"Yeah, but we lost last time. I think it might be the same unit... I think we can take 'em this time."_

"My point still stands."

_"Oh comon, Aryn. Quit being a wuss. If it makes you feel better, we'll ask first."_

"Ugh..." Marie was turning around and heading for the five Arwings. I submitted. "Fine... if it means _that_ much to you."

_"Oh don't be such a spoil sport, how are you going to be prepared for dogfighting if you never try it?"_

"That's what sims are for."

_"That ain't the same, and you know it."_

I sighed. I _did_ know that. In interceptor mode we were in pursuit of Mr. McCloud's unit within seconds. We were over open plains, one of the most dangerous places to be outnumbered. Fantastic... not.

_"Star Fox One to Arwing training unit... how's it going, boys?"_

Her dad answered first. _"Marie, what did I say about interupting my classes?"_

Good Creator, I was yelling at Marie in my mind not to argue with him. What did she do? _"I thought you were the one that said your men needed more dogfighting practice."_

A new voice. Sounded like a cocky bastard. _"If you really want to get schooled again that badly..."_

Fox again,_ "Shut your damn hole, Ramirez."_

_"Sorry, captain."_

_"Now, Marie. There's a reason we have simulators. You don't just go running around picking fights with military training units." _

_"Why, are they scared?"_

Oh shit.... _"Marie, if you want to get grounded for another week I'll do it in a-"_

_"Fuck this. Sir, we're gonna shut her up. Jackhammers, break to engage. Switch to simulator weapons."_

Fox sighed. _"Fine, but were adding on extra time after this. You aren't getting out of your navigation rounds... Marie, if you lose, you're out of the air for a month."_

_"I guess Aryn 'n' I will just have to kick some tail, then."_

One of the Arwing pilots. _"We'll see about that!"_

The four R64 Arwings switched to all-range mode almost at the same time and started pulling sharp U-turns to face us. Rather than react, Marie decided to agg them on _even more_. _"You can try, boys... but this time, you're gonna owe me and my friend here a nice long round." _We both switched to all-range mode to match them.

Not waiting for the order, I switched up to simulator weapons. We were about to do the first head to head. In open plains, there wasn't many other choices. The head-to-head was always the first maneuver in any engagement other than an ambush, where both forces charged eachother firing like crazy looking for the first kills. In a two versus four fight, these sucked even more than they sounded.

I chose an Arwing pilot's only reasonable option; I hit the boost and barrel rolled like crazy while laying on the trigger finger. While the G-Diffuser nullified any sickness I would have got from the motion, I still got a bit dizzy from spinning around so quickly. It passed shortly, though.

My fingers danced around my control panel on the dashboard and I brought up the simulated shield ratings for myself, Marie and the four Arwings of Jackhammer unit. I sent the data to her. "Enemy shields analyzed. Bringing it up on the monitor."

_"Got it. Thanks, hon."_

Wow. She called me hon. Before snapping out of my temporary trance I pulled into a steep immelman turn to try to get the drop on them, as they would be doing the same. Thanking the stars for the Arwing II's superior maneuverability, I caught number two and four as their dorsal sides were facing me. I unloaded, taking a nice chunk out of number two's sim shields.

_"Nice shooting, Aryn." _I knew she said it just to mock me, because she got in her turn faster and completely pulverised Arwing number three.

_"Aww, fuck! I'm out already!"_

Fox didn't sound too pleased at this. _"For flying like that you not only owe my daughter a round, but you owe me ten laps as soon as we get back. Pull out and watch from the sidelines."_

_"...Yes sir."_

Marie sounded absolutely ecstatic. _"You guys got a lot of nerve bragging that you beat us last time. What, you think I didn't know? I have friends in your class, you know. I'm gonna have to teach you boys a few lessons..."_

Three Arwings left, one heavily damaged. Not a bad start. As I passed their line again, the two I shot at decided that U-turning was a bad option. I expected them to pull into a U-Turn, but instead they hit their retros and do a flip, letting me pass over them... a sloppy mistake that put the both of them hot on my tail. Checking my radar, I discovered that Marie had an admirer too. I had to keep up with my barrel rolls, and I juked and jinked as much as I could, but my shields were getting pinged.

I was at about 72% when I noticed number two, one of the ones chasing me, take a dramaticaly hard pelting down to 40%. He barrel rolled off me and broke for "cover". _"Shit! She's on me!"_

I had to return the favour. I pulled a hard U-turn and barrel rolled coming out of it. I still got hit down to 65%, but now I had an extra few seconds... and Marie's pursuer, Jackhammer one, was in my sights. I started a lock on.

_"Lesson one: Mind your surroundings."_

As though she mock warned him, Jackhammer One tried to break off Marie to get away from my lock. No such luck. I got the full shot in, and the green ball of death smashed into the back of his fighter. He was brought down all the way to 24%. Marie, who was U-turning at the time, started firing on the two pursuers that picked up the slack on me during their leader's peril. Two was suddenly knocked down to nothing.

"_Agh! She got me! I'm out!"_

I was about to finish off One when my shields took a sudden plunge to 50%. To my frustration, I had to break off to start evasive maneuvers again.

_"Lesson two: Numbers mean nothing if you don't use them properly." _She was reciting the very same lessons that Fox had told her... if I could have seen Fox in his cockpit a half a click out, he probably would have been solemnly nodding.

There were only two Arwings left, one on my tail and the other was probably going to try to loop around behind Marie. It was a circle fight; the stupidest thing you do in open plains. I had to break the chain. Chances were that Marie was going to do the same.

She spoke to me on team frequency. _"Aryn, break away from my pursuer and fly straight towards me."_

"Okay." I let her playmate go and concentrated harder on keeping my shields up. I took another hit, and they dropped to 42%. Marie was still at 80%. I had to turn around slowly, because a turn too sharp would give him my dorsal side and let him wipe me out for free. Not today.

Before I knew it, I was looking down the barrels of Marie's lasers. We were heading at eachother straight on. My shields cried in protest and dropped to 30%.

_"Lesson three..."_

Boom. She broke to her right and I broke to mine, and we had shots on eachothers pursuers. I unloaded on number One on her tail, and she unloaded on number Four.

_"Never... EVER... fuck with a McCloud!"_

She totally made that one up.

I checked the shield monitors, I was hovering at a dangerous 22%, Marie at 60%, but all four Arwings of the Jackhammer training unit were down to zero.

"Good game, Jackhammer. You want fries with your ownage?"

_"Peh, you got lucky. Don't think we'll go so easy on you next time."_

Mr. McCloud finally chimed in. _"Quit your belly aching, you four got your asses handed to you."_

I swelled with pride. I didn't think we'd actually win that one. I caught up to Marie and flew cockpit-facing-cockpit with her, and she looked up to me with a warm smile. _"Nice flying, Aryn."_

"No, you were the hero here."

Fox put his angry tone on. _"And while I'm proud of you two, I TOLD you to stop interupting my damn classes! Now, get out of here before I show you how a _REAL _Arwing pilot does business... and I _won't_ be using sim guns."_

Marie had no argument. _"You got it, boss. See you tonight."_

_"I want you to run the Sector Z escort mission again, get that score down to zero friendly casualties before I get home."_

_"Okay. Bye, dad."_

She broke away from the group of Arwings and headed back north, switching to interceptor mode. "We going back to the mountain ranges?"

_"Nah... I think we can tuck it in for the day. I'm gonna go radio silent until we get home to bask in the rays of victory."_

"Heh, alright." Her picture winked off of my comm board, and out of curiosity, I listened in on the Jackhammer team frequency again.

_"Captain McCloud sir... is she always like that?"_

_"Yeah. I was the same way too before... well... she just needs that snap into reality to put her cockiness in check. Everyone does. You're no exception, Ramirez."_

_"Yes, sir."_

_"And Patrenko, you still owe me those ten laps. You fly so bad that I'm tempted to have you checked for alcohol on your breath when we get back."_

_"Damnit!... just kidding, sir."_

* * *

_=-=-=-=_

_Meanwhile..._

_Skies above Kew_

_Special Forces Issue Dropship 28_

_=-=-=-=-=_

The hum of the engine was little more than a gentle purr, the noise of the ship cutting through the Kewian wind currents completely non-existant through the thick armored walls. The only people inside the bay normally fitted for twenty was myself, Dennis, Zer, Captain Ley and Karen. Considering our limited brief going in, Ley was about to tell us why the heck we were out there to bag Karen.

"Alright, now, you're all aware of what happened on Titania?"

Everyone shook their heads.

"Good, because there was a lot of effort to keep that quiet. Anyway, one week ago, a research and containment base on Titania that was _supposed _to be tightly guarded and kept completely secret was raided. Several extemely sensitive samples and blueprints were stolen, none of which I'm allowed to mention. The base was so completely destroyed afterwards that very little evidence as to who did this was left behind... except for the unit patch of one killed attacker." She held up a small, leather patch the size of a paw. It was a picture of the red outline of a Wolfen, set inside a black outline of a Wolf's head calling to the moon.

Karen looked like she suddenly had double expresso injected straight into her blood stream. "That's the unit patch of my dad's old personal guard."

"We know. Other than this, we had no leads; so we had to track whoever we could that may have known anything about the murder of Wolf O'Donnell. When we noticed your home extranet address being the home base of tons of database searches involving the fate of Star Wolf, we were sent to go get you. Although, it shouldn't have been a suprise that it was his daughter."

"Heh. So you want me to give you the name of his murderer than take all the glory of taking him down?"

The leopardess raised a brow. "Well, that's putting it in the most cynical way possible, but more or less. If you still haven't found him after six years, I say you've more than expended your chance anyway."

Karen showed off her fangs and growled at the Captain. "I am _going_ to be the one that pulls the trigger, whether I tell you anything or not."

"No. You're either going to tell us everything you know, or we're going to have you incarcerated."

"You wish. I don't have a Cornerian criminal record."

"But you will, once we get Lombardi to cough up your service record."

"He _wouldn't dare_."

"He would. He owes my boss a few favours... and Lombardi knows better than anyone not to piss Colonel Birse off."

"And Falco also knows a hell of a lot better than to piss _me _off... and whoever this Birse joker is, he's gonna be learning that too."

At this point, I was suprised Karen didn't just get up and blow Ley's face off with that monstrous handgun of hers... but it appeared she was either actually considering telling us the truth or she had a lot more self control than I originally thought. They must have stared eachother down for a good twenty seconds; Ley in professional confidence, and Karen in pure, unrestrained rage.

Knowing Karen, though, it was definitely the former. Self control is _not_ in her vocabulary.

Spoke too soon. Something within Karen snapped, because she stood up and her paw was to the Demon... but the Captain had other plans. I didn't bother interfering. Ley must have crossed the bay in less than a tenth of a second, because before the pistol was even out of it's holster, Karen was slammed against the wall with Ley's knife at her throat, the Captain's other paw holding the pistol in place.

"Now you listen to me, you brat. The tech stolen from that base is so incredibly dangerous, and so many people could die, that I won't even think for a second before bleeding you out. Do you understand? You're going to answer my questions, or I am _damn _sure that we're going to get authorization to have someone _make_ you answer. Am I understood, O'Donnell?"

Karen, despite her predicament, was still seething in rage... but even she knew her limits. "Fine. Now get the fuck off of me." Ley did exactly that, and the monstrous weapon stayed in it's holster. Karen took her seat.

"His name is Vincent Xavier, an old colleague of my dad's that went missing right after Andross was killed. Black bat, a bit taller than six feet, former member of the Scarlet Hand."

A long pause. "Happy?"

Ley looked generally worried. "If a Hand member is behind this, we are in a _lot _more trouble than I think you realize."

It was my turn to ask a question; this time to Ley. "Captain, what _was_ the stolen tech? How could it possibly be that dangerous?"

"I could get discharged if I told you, so I'm not going to."

"Something tells us we're about to be told anyway, considering that worried look on your face... besides, you forget that I'm telepathic, so I'm just going to tell them everything I learned from you just now to them anyway."

Ley looked to the ground for a few moments, then shook her head. She appeared to submit to my arguement. "Do you know what an Aparoid is?"

* * *

_That chance to rewrite chapter three allowed me to get a bit of extra plot-helping info in. Chapter 4 is well on it's way. See you then!_


	4. Amy and Jordan

_Last introductory chapter before the plot sparks. By spark I mean explode, of course. Allow me to introduce the story of the young Amy and Jordan Lombardi. I should remind that you might want to pay attention to the years I mention in the little date/time/location boxes... even later on it will bounce around a bit for flashbacks and stuff like that, and I wouldn't want people getting confused._

_Special Forces Detachment Echo codenamed Dagger is Foxmerc's. Thank you, and enjoy the show._

_Oh, and the last half of Chapter Three was refitted, if you haven't seen that yet go back and read it, because I added a little important snippet in an extra scene I added after the dogfight. It is important._

* * *

_"Disobedience, in the eyes of anyone who has read history, is man's original virtue. It is through disobedience that progress has been made, through disobedience and through rebellion." ~Oscar Wilde_

_**Chapter Four: Amy and Jordan**_

_=-=-=-=_

_Two Months After the Death of Dr. E__n__os Andross_

_Thursday, October 5th, 18 PLW_

_Cornerian Orbit, Arspace Dynamics Research & Development Station_

_Toad Enterprises Division, __Presidents __President__'__s __Office_

_1458 Hours Lylat Standard Time_

_=-=-=-=_

My name is Beltino Toad, President of Arspace Dynamics. My gorgeous view of the Cornerian skyline out the richly oversized viewscreen of my office gave me a moment to reflect on all of my thoughts. As with the end of any war, I was a busy man... and I did not often get moments to myself.

It had been two months since the conduit to the temporal image of Cerinia had been sealed at the center of Venom, and it appeared as though life in Lylat could settle down again. No longer under the influence of the telekenetic amplifiers, most of the Venomian insurgence immediately surrendered, and the former emperor Dash Bowman was thrown in prison for the rest of his life and replaced by a simpelton puppet of the Cornerian Senate. All things considered, the clean up from the two week blitz was one of the most mild of the wars that have ravaged the Lylat system over the last eighteen years. The only major casualties were on Macbeth and, unfortunately, my own home planet of Aquas; both of which had their capital cities decimated with tens of thousands of casualties to boot.

If anything good can be said about war, however, it is that it has a way of cementing alliances and bringing together the like- minded in times of desperate need for action, whilst equally efficiently weeding out the cowards amongst your inner circle. I was shocked to discover a long lost colleague of mine, Skye Greyson, had been recovered amongst the chaos, whom I had just got off the persacom with only minutes earlier. He expressed his interest in joining my top echelon research and development team for improvement on the current G-Diffuser systems and all technology that it had been implemented into. I of course, feverishly accepted. On the other side of the spectrum, I was infuriated to learn that there had indeed been Arwing development research being sold to the Cornerian government under the table for much longer than I would have ever thought possible. Now do they not only have their hands on the G-Diffuser, but they have begun production of their own R64 Arwings and these new "Interceptor" models that I heard were so successful in the hands of a Star Fox pilot.

As the President of one of the most esteemed weapons and support technology research institutions in the galaxy, my schedule is usually quite full; especially directly preceeding a war. The usual government antics did nothing to suprise me; requests and offers for the Arwing II blueprints on top of their already illegally aquired R64 blueprints, requests for mass production of the TE-CANIS armor that had been combat proven at the battle for Androsia Palace... it was all terribly repetitive, I'm afraid. One can understand that I cannot just give the most powerful weapons ever conceived to a band of corrupt politicians. While I never suspected to be weeding out intelligence leaks amongst my most trusted officers, it was inevitable that the Cornerian Military would discover the secret behind the Arwing eventually. No matter; this is why I constantly work to improve my own work... so that no matter how much they try to steal from me, I will always be able to keep the strongest of weapons out of greedy hands. There are a very slim number of people that can be trusted with the Arwing II or the CANIS armor... Star Fox, Blackhook Squadron and Special Forces Detatchment Echo codenamed Dagger are my primary customers. There are a few other singular operatives that I can trust, such as Katt Monroe and William Grey, but not many.

Some argue that it is ridiculous for me to put so much energy and finance into supplying for a group of no more than twenty able men and women; but if there is any greater point that speaks for the validity of my actions it is results. Who crushed the Venomian armada eighteen years ago with naught but four of my prized fighters? Star Fox. Who led a group of no more than twenty men into the very heart of Venomian power for the sake of saving the lives of billions? Blackhook. Who stopped the launch of a massive thermonuclear warhead that could have permanently ruined the ecosystems of every planet in the system, and kill billions? Dagger. Although, it is argueable that Dagger was not using any of my more advanced equipment at that time, they have, like Star Fox, have found to be singularly loyal to the Lylat System and her citizens before their government; a crucial quality when I am selecting clients. Besides... their leader, Gage Birse, has proven to be one of Fox McCloud's most trustworthy and reliable allies.

It is even more comforting to know that Skye, also the original designer of the Wolfen, is now also a member of our close circle of friends. One of the most catastrophic factors leading to the production of equipment to rival the Arwing started with the creation of that abomination, and now its secret is also safe other than the ones in possession of the infamous Star Wolf... but somehow I doubt they will be selling the schematics of their favourite tools to any governments or rival coorporations. They may be rather unscrupulous, but their intentions proved to be quite honorable when the dust settled.

Amongst all the political, financial and subtelty bores that come with the job of President of Arspace Dynamics, I was surprised to have had an appointment booked by the last people I would ever think interested in my work... Falco Lombardi, and his new bride Katt. While I am a mechanic and weaponsmith first and foremost, it is not uncommonly known that I am also a geneticist. I recieved a rather panicked call only two days earlier requesting my immediate audience, in Falco's typically eloquent fashion. To the shock of us all -please, excuse my sarcasm- apparently the newly dubbed Miss Lombardi is pregnant. How a feline came to be pregnant by an avian, Creator only knows. I am personally inclined to believe he is not the father, but I am also not typically one to judge... besides, checking my watch, I realized that all of those questions would begin to be answered in only thirty seconds if I could count on Mr. Lombardi's timing.

Which I can't, of course. At least not normally... and this was far from a normal circumstance.

At precisely three o-clock PM down to the second, the door to my rather expansive office was knocked on quite forcefully. Normally, my damaged hearing required the use of a doorbell that was wired straight to my desk because it was nearly thirty meters away from the door... but I had no trouble with hearing Falco slamming on the durasteel like the other side was being filled with nerve gas. Swinging my chair around to face the bulk of the room, I pressed a switch on my desk that sent the door shooting into the frame above it to let the newlyweds in. They appeared to be terribly disgruntled, and I can't say I blamed them, given the nature of their visit.

"Mr. and Mrs. Lombardi! So glad you could stop by." Already I noticed the pink furred feline's stomach bulged out as the most obvious sign of pregnancy... but it wasn't a lot. That was good. The further she was along, the more difficult it would be to reprogram the child's DNA properly. Ahh, the wonders of modern science... spectacular to the point of being able to correct a child's genes as far in as the beginning stages of fetal development. As you may have guessed, I was one of the few in Lylat that could do it. Not that, unlike my weaponry, I didn't want to share; just so few were willing to listen. Religious folk, you see. There is still quite a bit of debate surrounding the topic of whether it is morally acceptable to edit the genetic code of a child.

Fortunately for the Lombardi family, I tend to ignore those annoying, idiotic voices in the crowd that try to get in the way of scientific advancement with their petty traditions... and this attitude has served almost every single life in the Lylat System quite nicely at one point or another.

"Man, Beltino, thanks for seein' us so quick." Falco helped himself to one of the chairs at my desk, Katt joining him shortly after. "Like, none o' this makes sense. I didn't even know I _could _get her knocked up, let alone-"

The sheer magnitude of obviousness that was about to be poured into my office implored me to interupt him. "Worry not, Falco, I am well aware of your predicament... but before we get too involved, I need you to be absolutely honest with me. Katt..."

"Yes?" I think she already knew what I was going to ask, because she almost looked insulted. It was never my intention, but surely one can understand that I must be sure before delving so deeply into the affairs of their child's life.

"Are you absolutely _certain_ that he is the father? Without a fraction of a doubt?"

She didn't even hesitate. That either meant she was extremely honest, or a very panicked liar. "Positive. I haven't... well, you know. I haven't been with any other man in _years." _

I came prepared for their visit with a briefcase on my table containing all of the tools I would need to properly examine the child. The look I recieved from my secretary was quite amusing when I gave her the list of items, but she fetched them for me in her usually efficient fashion. I stood up, opened the briefcase, and retrieved a small scanning device that show me a dynamic readout of the child's progress based on an magnified X-ray image taken of the fetus' DNA.

While I didn't really suspect that Katt would lie to me, I was still quite shocked to see the results. Not only was the child literally half avian and half feline, the fetus appeared to be stable, for the most part... but I couldn't take chances.

Falco interupted my chain of thought. "What's the problem, doc? You look suprised."

"I believe astounded would be a better word. The child apparently, despite everything I know about genetics, is developing without any major deformaties. However, this is only based on a cover judgement. I will ned to run some tests to be absolutely certain."

Katt looked up to me with a glitter of hope in her eyes. "You mean the child might make it?"

"Oh yes, he will certainly make it; all I need to ascertain is whether I will have to help it along or not... but don't worry. This child _will_ be born healthy."

I noticed both of their expressions soften as soon as I said "he". Falco especially. "So he's gonna be a guy?"

"Yes. You are to have a son."

Thankfully, I had everything on hand I needed to run the appropriate growth simulations on my computer. My scanner connected with my computer wirelessly with the press of a button, and the appropriate program opened and gave me all of the information I needed. Image projection, organ statistics... even the little tyke's eye colour. I took a seat.

All was not well, as I had originally suspected. I suppose Katt noticed the look on my face because she melted into worry again. "Is everything alright?"

I wasn't about to sugar coat the results. "Not as well as I had thought, but nothing detrimental... at least not to you, Katt."

It was Falco's turn to be worried. "What do ya mean, at least not Katt?"

"As I suspected, many of your avian genes are conflicting with Katt's feline genes. While my original projection showed a successful birth, he wouldn't live past the age of two. In order to correct this, I am going to have to replace much of your DNA with generic feline traits... in all honesty, Falco, there might not be much left of you in your son, but it is the only option if he is to survive."

I could certainly feel sympathy for him. His reaction was nothing less than what I expected, the hope that was in his eyes only moments earlier sunk into a cruel mixture of shame and submission. "Is there nothin' you can do?"

"Not for this child. However, if Katt finds herself pregnant again, and you come to me no later than two weeks after insemination, I will be able to assure you a healthy hybrid child."

"...I guess that's all we can ask for, doc. Thanks."

"It's all I can do... I'm sorry that it couldn't be more. I will have the appropriate injections prepared for you within the next couple of days, and I will need you to come again to pick them up either Thursday or Friday."

"Thank you for everything, Mr. Toad."

"It is no problem at all... a friend of Slippy's is a friend of mine. Stop by any time."

* * *

_=-=-=-=_

_Twenty Years Later, 38 PLW, Monday, April 2nd_

_Lombardi Private Military Coorporation Headquarters, Kew_

_Commander's Suite / Residence_

_1402 hours_

_=-=-=-=_

My name is Amy Lombardi, the younger of two children of Falco and Katt Lombardi, owners of Kew's very own LPMC. I was eighteen years old at the time of... well, I'll let my story do the talking.

My whole life has been one of watching my parent's company grow. Thanks to it, we lived wealthy lives... although some times I would think that I was the only one who felt guilty with all of the money we sat on. Not all of it was gained legitimately... I would sometimes talk to my mother about it, because she at least half heartedly shared my concerns, but to my dad business is business. "Seedy contracts come with the job," he would say. "Sometimes you gotta' do things you'll punch yourself for later to keep a good rep up... but you're hardly in a spot to be complainin', you're livin' fer free." So he says.

My older brother, Jordan... well, he's more than a bit odd. Not only is he a naturally royal blue furred pure-feline, he doesn't seem to show any emotion when he's on the job. Dad sends him somewhere to do something and he gets it done without a question, and sometimes without even a word... it's eerie, to tell the truth. It's not like we don't talk, we _are_ siblings, after all, but we never really related on anything. Least of all our father's views on the morality of the work we did.

Scarier yet, he somehow could get along with that psychopath Karen that comes over to do jobs with him sometimes. I feel it safe to say she is clinically insane. She has absolutely no regard for Lylatian life. It's disturbing... but more disturbing yet that my own brother actually _chooses_ to work with her above anyone else. He would always tell me every time I brought it up... "She may be... seedy, as you put it... but she is extremely good at what she does. That's all the job asks of her, and, as such, all I ask of her."

Don't get me wrong, though, my brother isn't ruthless. He shows his fair share of mercy, it just seems that he completely dedicated himself to the job. He spends all of his waking hours training himself in either his martial arts (which are _insane_) or his piloting from my father. I would be suprised if there was a single soul in Lylat that could outfly either of them now... and I would never want to get in the ring with Jordan. He brought me on a job to a bar on the other side of the planet because we were looking for a particular regular, but the guy was tipped off that we were coming. We got attacked by like, five guys, and Jord floored them all without spilling the half-down drink he was holding... I didn't even have to lift a finger.

Sometimes I think that's the way he would prefer it; he's really protective of me. If he thought he can get a job done without my analytical or social skills, he would leave me behind... especially if there was going to be combat involved. Whenever I was there and there _was _combat involved, he would literally wait until I was out of harms way before wasting anyone. Dad got mad at him a few times for that. He would start yelling about how I would be screwed on my own if Jordan didn't let my fend for myself. He's only half right... while Jordan was certainly superior, I could hold my own. You don't spend that much time with the beast without picking up a few things.

Now, more about me. I kinda feel like a bit of a hypocrite saying others are odd, considering the unique nature of my birth. My mom is a cat, and my dad is a falcon. A good family friend apparently helped program my DNA to stabilize me, and as a result, I'm basically just like any other felne.... except that I grew wings on my back. Big, white, feathered wings. What's worse, is that my parents gave me the middle name _Angel_. The metaphor is so sickening that it's almost a full out pun.

The oddities don't end there. Despite the fact that pink isn't my mother's natural fur colour, somehow I ended up with pink fur. Maybe it had something to do with the limited natural feline fur pigments conflicting with the comparitvely colourful avian ones; I don't know. I'm not a geneticist. All I know is that my parents are totally different species, I have pink fur, white hair, and angel wings. I'm completely incapable of being discreet, or even using a disguise effectively.

Can I use them to fly? Yeah. At least there's _one_ advantage to the stupid things. You know how hard it is to get a shirt on, though? I have to get all of my clothes custom tailored to have a removable flap on my back between my wings that I have to zipper into place. I can't sleep on anything smaller than a king sized bed. They get freaken _cold _in the winter time and I have no means to cover them up properly. I even have to _sidestep through most doors. _The list goes on... they're a nightmare. I was thinking about it as I got ready for our most recent job, going through the hastle of getting my new business dress on. I had two mirrors in my room back to back that I could use to make sure I zipped up the back flap all of the way. I got the feel for it most of the time, but some tops were more stubborn... like that damn dress.

Although, despite all of this bull shit, I never want to get the wings removed... call it a thing for being unique, or call it the same fear that makes you hesitate to get your tonsils removed. Whatever. The wings stay.

April the 2nd was the day that things would change for me. It was the same as every other week; dad had something special that he needed done, and he told me and Jordan to do it. He also called in Karen.... great. I hated working with her.

Anyway, apparently Dad wanted one of our biggest competitors to dissapear. Normally there was more than enough contracts to go around, but lately, the Jostler PMC took to trying to steal our contracts to try to cut our cash flow, thus putting them on top of the Mercanary business on Kew. Unfortunately for their president, a pig named Terrance Jostler, Dad wasn't about to sit and watch as his profits were cut down. Being a "company mascot", I was supposed to go in with my two "bodyguards" to request an audience with Jostler. If they let me in, I would go straight to him at his office on the top floor, kill him, then jump out the window and flutter to safety. If they didn't, I would call in Jordan and Karen who would butcher the whole building while I took the hovercar to the roof of the building to cut off Jostler's obvious escape attempt. The building was only seven stories tall, making any of Dad's sportscars capable of reaching that height. Once Jostler was dead, all we needed to do was get out of dodge.

When I walked out the front door of our little two-floor office building-like company headquarters in downtown Lusterstone City, I wasn't suprised to see Jordan's deep blue four-door sports car parked on the side of the road. I was a couple minutes late, sure, but don't forget how difficult it is for me to get dressed... especially when it's a business suit I had to send back _three times_ with the correct specifications to get it right. I guess I couldn't blame them too much, how many customers do they get with wings on their back?

The business suit was black with hot pink thin vertical stripes which augmented my fur colour. To further add to the effect, I took my favourite pink-tinted shades with me. Covering my eyes was one of the best ways to add an aura of intimidating professionality, especially considering my fur colour and my slightly shorter height... and the fact I would be unarmed until the shooting actually started.

That, and I was eighteen. Whatever. I guess they were to see how intimidating I was when I put a laser between their boss' eyes.

As I approached Jordan's car, the back door closest to me popped open for me. I settled myself down, and without missing a beat, the door was shut and the car was takingtook off.

I was _totally_ not suprised to see a heavy ballistic support machine gun laying on the seat beside me. Karen was such a brute. The she-wolf, in her favourite long black overcoat, spoke first. "I don't suppose we need to go over the plan again, do we?"

I shook my head. Totally typical greeting from her. "Nice to see you too, O'Donnell... and no, I'm fine. It's not as though it's that complicated anyway."

It was no secret that she didn't like me much. I was a merciful bullet-saver, she was a relentless psychopath. Throw two people like that in the same room and there would be trouble. Thankfully, we had the job to keep our minds company. If she didn't screw up, I wouldn't be mad, and vice versa.

Jordan was his typical quiet self driving at his efficiently quick pace. Sometimes I could swear he was a cyborg. But, even he had to speak sometimes. "I would rather you went over it anyway, to make triple sure. We can't have any misunderstandings."

I rolled my eyes. "I go in first with Jordan unarmed and talk to their receptionist. If he doesn't let us go see Jostler, we leave, and Jordan and Karen go in fully armed and tear the place up, while I take the car to the roof to block off the boss' escape." I sighed. "Good enough?"

Karen shook her head. "You're forgetting a crucial part."

She was right. I forgot. "Aand if he _does_ let us up, however improbable, we tell _you _to go to the roof, and we stop just before getting to his office to aquire weapons, and trap him in."

"Good. Whatever happens, he's top priority... and we need to make sure everyone that survives knows it was us, so they can run off and tell all of their friends not to fuck with the LPMC."

Suddenly we started to descend and slow down. Jordan rolled down his window and looked down to the ground to make sure we were descending properly and not landing ontop of anyone. "We're here."

As soon as the car touched the ground, me and Jordan got right to business. We both got out at the same time, and he left it running. He was in the same clothes he was always in... they were like his trademark. Loose blue jeans and a red button-up vest. He had like, ten sets of the same outfit. Unlike me, he was armed; but only with a high-output blaster pistol on his belt as a show of force. That would probably be changing shortly.

The building was situated on a busy street corner; only more perfect for the publicity my dad was looking for. It was a simple, seven floor, square office building that was otherwise relatively featureless if not for the windows and the big JPMC sign above the main doors. Who knew, maybe if Karen left enough of the building intact maybe[JZ1] Dad could buy it for cheap once its vacancy was made known. We were always looking for new property to lease for extra profit.

Jordan was right on my tail as I swung through the front doors. I was met with a T-junction hallway, with a reception desk built into the far hallway. Without stopping to gawk at the surroundings to get a better feel for it, I kept my eyes forward and went straight to the front desk.

Needless to say, thanks to me and my brother's unique fur colours and my wings, the smartly dressed fox behind the desk recognized me immediately. "Welcome to- Oh, wait... if it isn't the Lombardi children! What can I do for you two fine businessmen today?"

Jordan kept as silent as I expected him to. I wasn't clinging onto much hope at this point, given the sarcastic expression on the receptionist (cocky bastard...) but I decided to use manners anyway. Why not let him die with my cute smile being the last thing he ever sees? "As you may have guessed, business. Needless to say you are aware of the unfortunate interactions between our two companies as of late... we just want to have a meeting with your President to see if we can't mutually sort out these misunderstandings."

I'm usually a patient person, but when this fucker starts flipping through empty schedule pages with a look of faked concern on, and then says... "Oh dear, I'm sorry. It appears Mr Jostler is already booked for today. Can I book you for an appointment?".... oooooh.

At times like those, I could definitely sympathize for Karen's violent methods. "No... that won't be necessary. I think I will take my leave, now. Have a nice life." "_However short it turns out to be"_ I didn't add.

"Of course. Come again!" he called after me as I turned my back to him. I looked to Jordan to see if there was any equivilient sign on his expression to my frustration, but wasn't suprised to see his usual steely gaze. I pushed out of the lobby doors, and nodded to Karen who jumped out of her passenger seat and wore a vicious grin as she put on a pair of earmuffs and pulled the LMG out of the back seat. She pulled the cocking pin back like an experienced paintball player trying to intimidate his opponents before the match.

"Have fun." I said to Karen as she pulled an assault blaster for Jordan out of the back seat and tossed it to him. Before I got into the car drivers seat, he leaned in and grabbed two small repeating blasters that looked like old ballistic sub-machine guns and attached them to his belt.

I took my place in the drivers seat of the sports car and grinned to Jordan. "Try not to take too long, we need to be out of here before the cops show up."

He didn't return my grin. "Just make sure he doesn't escape."

"Done, and done."

* * *

I took a moment to sigh before nodding to Karen. As we turned to face the building, Amy was already up in the air. It was so bothersome when people like that buffoon receptionist refused to be cooperative. It's a pity he wasn't fully aware of his situation before outright refusing us entry; Jostler was going to die regardless. Now, rather, that fox was going to die with the fat swine. He was either extremely stupid or suprisingly loyal.

Whatever. They all burn the same... and I certainly didn't need to conserve ammunition.

As a show of force, and to make the receptionist hesitate to pull the alarm, I swiftly kicked in the front door with my pistol out in the hand that wasnt carrying the assault blaster. Eyes down the sights, one shot found its way between startled eyes. Two guards flanking the desk immediately tried to pull out their service pistols, but they were stopped by the loud clattering of hipfire from Karen's machine gun. When the gun stopped we were left in silence, and we didn't break it with unecessary chatter. Karen took the right hallway and I took the left. We would meet in the middle of the building when the two hallways converged again.

It was no surprise that our entrance was heard. Just before I made it around the corner two guards came flying around. My reflexes caught the first before he even realized what was going on; a well placed fist at the rear end of his jaw sent him sprawling to the floor with a sickening _crack_. The other one was a bit less oblivious, and tried to back up while raising his sidearm. Since my pistol was already out, I took a snap shot and caught him the gut. He doubled over. To finish them both, I put a laser into the back of number two's head, and snapped number one's neck with a well placed stomp.

I turned the corner, and more three more guards appeared further down the hall. Out came my mini-repeater blasters. The guards were slow to react again, and were dropped by my hail of laser fire. I was starting to question whether there was anyone compotent in the building... there had to have been mercenaries on base. Based on the loud reports of machine gun fire, it was safe to assume Karen was having an equally easy time.

Turning the next bend I was across the main room of the building to Karen, who stepped over a rather gored up corpse with the same steel, all-business gaze. I would have expected a grin, but she usually only enjoys herself if there is a challenge. For us, this was like mowing the lawn. Before we made ourselves visable to the rather large atrium section, she changed bullet-boxes for her MG with prompt efficiency. The atrium we entered took up most of the interior of the building, the ceiling going all the way up to the 7th floor. There was a balcony for each floor looking down into the atrium. There wasn't much for cover, save four statues placed in square corner points in the center of the room, the pillars holding up the balconies, and a large fountain in the center.

Things became more interesting from there on out. The alarm finally went off. Guards started pouring out of two stairwell doors at the far side of the atrium, and a few more appeared along the balconies. Karen didn't hesitate, and was pouring on them once enough of them were in our view to prevent their survival. Before they could collect themselves, I made a mad dash for the stairwell door closest to me. I was under the closest balcony, and had somewhat decent cover from the regularly placed pillars between me and the far balcony.

Two men with their weapons already out were cut down as I approached by a hipfire spray from my assault blaster. Three more were behind them; one with his weapon already raised. Not missing a beat, I threw my rifle at him with enough force and speed to knock him back and keep the rifle in mid air by the time I was upon the other two. Number two had his pistol raised, and I dove forward as he shot. He missed high, and I broke into a handstand flip, getting my calfs safely around his neck. With a twist of my legs and a lean of the waist, my playmate was thrown in a barrel roll, and I was launched back onto my feet. Just as I was composed again, I caught the rifle that was flipping in mid air and lunged at the last one, smashing the butt into his face with a satisfactory _crack._ The entire maneuver took about six seconds. Before turning towards the stairwell door, I emptied a couple of blasts into each squirming body on the floor and changed energy magazines.

I barely overheard a dark laughter coming from Karen as she kept unloading her machine gun, advancing step by step towards her stairwell door. One of the victims got a lucky shot, hitting her in the stomach, but she only flinched. Her expression curled into one of fury as she pumped ten or fifteen shots into her assailant. I _told _her bringing that flak vest was a good idea. Good thing she listened.

When fire started coming from the 2nd and 3rd floor balconies, I knew it was time to get the hell off of the ground. Karen seemed to think the same thing, because she plowed right into the stairwell corridor with her LMG blazing. I would like to think I was a bit more efficient, but the general theme was still the same. I charged in the door, looking up the first flight of stairs then straight up through the hollow step grating, preforating two more targets as they were coming downstairs. I started up the stairs, eyes down my sights. The pig would probably be on the top floor. What greedy corporate president _didn't_ have his office on the top floor? Well, my dad's is in the basement, but then again, he's smart. You don't spend forty years as a pilot without feeling vulnerable in the air without a fighter.

The top of the stairwell came without any more interruption, a large white "7" painted on the wall made it all too obvious that I was at my destination. I kicked open the door.

Maybe I was getting cocky, or the next group was the mercenaries that had caused us so much trouble over the past couple of months. Whoever they were, they had a flashbang down, and I wasn't ready for it. I closed my eyes, but I would have to go without hearing for the following several seconds.

I jumped back and tried to get around the corner before it went off, but no such luck. The bang was so loud I could have sworn my eardrumps popped... but when I opened my eyes again, there wasn't so much as a speck of afterflash. I wheeled around the corner again to try to catch whoever was on the other side off guard.

They tried the trick again. After pegging two, I noticed the little glowing red ball flying towards my face. I dropped the assault blaster, caught the plasma grenade and launched it back without missing a beat. As it exploded about fifteen feet ahead of me in the center of the group that threw it, I pulled out my MRBs again. I unleashed a hail through the fireball.

Nothing was left but charred corpses when the dust cleared. I looked across the balcony, and Karen had a similar grenade problem... but she was wearing earmuffs, and her angry weapon leveled the squad waiting for her before they could get the plasma grenade out. She looked over to me, and even at the significant distance apart I saw her nod in satisfaction. We continued around the balconies looking for a door labeled as the presidents office as my hearing recovered.

When our balconies converged to another T junction to a hallway, we knew that the last door on the end would be Jostlers office. Not a word was shared between us, just understanding of our job.

She didn't notice the flicker of light ahead. I knew the tell tale mirror effect of a cloaking device when I saw it. When I raised my blasters, an electrical pulse wave emitted from the figure. An EMP grenade. I dropped my now useless blasters. Karen was using a ballistic weapon, but it had an electronic firing mechanism. She dropped the weapon she was having so much fun with, wearing an angry frown.

The figure's cloak was also disabled by the blast. Standing in front of us was a dark furred hare with a glint of cockyness in his eye. I knew his intentions when two ten inch daggers were suddenly in each of his paws... again, no words were required. Karen backed off. This was my playground. I had no knives of my own; I didn't need them. My abilities were sharp enough. The only gun still on me was my pistol in my belt holster, which I pulled out and threw to the side. All it was now was a paperweight.

Not giving him the courtesy of the first move, I lunged at him as fast as my leg muscles would allow, hands ready incase I had to intercept those knives. Typically, he tried to jump back and slash horizontally with the first dagger. I dove downards instead, making it miss, and spun around on the ground, tripping him out. When I regained my composure he was no longer on the ground where I expected, rather, he had rolled back onto his feet. I quickly gained posture again.

I raised my paw and beckoned to him. _Your move._

He threw the knife in his left paw at me. He was expecting me to dodge out of the way to give him the crucial milliseconds to close the distance and gut me, but unfortunately for him, I was no amateur. I timed the knife's rotations, plucked it out of the air and brought it in the way of his predictable counter assault, my free hand behind my back in a clenched fist. He bounced off the parry and slashed twice more, only meeting my stolen blade. The fourth time he slashed my free paw finally jumped into the fight, stopping the blade hand in mid-swing. His free hand stopped my counter-assault.

Maybe he wasn't _all _bad.

We both spun our knives at the same time, in turn causing us to let eachother go. I flipped mine into a reverse grip; better for slashing and parrying. He kept his point up. He meant to stab me. With knives this large, only one hit would be required to kill either of us. An interesting game.

He took the first move again, lunging at me from a low stance. His blade came upwards at me. He would counter my attempt to grip with his free hand, so instead I backstepped, spun and pushed him over my outstretched foot. He reacted quickly enough to my attempt to trip him, but he was still caught off guard. I went in for the kill. He spun around faster than I could have expected and parried my blow with the knife, but not the knuckle sandwhich that collided with his jaw. He stumbled back.

Just when I thought I would finish it, he again surprised me with a rapid recovery and a counter attack. His knife was plunging towards me again, but I got the chance to grip it this time. My paw around his wrist, the blade stopped inches from my face. I went for the slash, but I had to stop when the fingers still under his control flipped the blade that extra distance it would have needed to carve out my eyes. I had to back off.

Rather than go back to a stare down, he chased me down and sent his last knife flying. He was right; I wasn't ready to catch it. If I parried it, he had both paws available to get a grip on me. I had to throw my own to intercept his before he got close enough. The blades clashed in midair and fell to the ground.

_BOOM._

Rather than the hand to hand fight I was looking for, the hare dropped to the ground mid lunge. I frowned. "I didn't need your help."

Karen grinned, holding out her monstrous pistol that was smoking at the barrel. "You're forgetting that we're on the clock. I'm sure you can find some hotshot to fuck up later."

I nodded, looking down to my opponent. Where his neck used to be there was now a smoking crater, his head now completely seperate from his body and rolling across the floor. I picked up his knives and turned around to find the door labeled "PRESIDENTS OFFICE."

Karen, being the only one armed with a ranged weapon, took the liberty of breaching the door with a well placed kick. The wooden-framed door snapped in protest, granting us entrance.

We were not suprised to find the large, lavish room vacant of any fat pigs. There was a staircase at the far end of the room that led up to an open hatch to the roof. Karen gritted her fangs. "Let's hope that stupid sister of yours didn't let the pork chop escape."

"She may be squeamish, but she is _not_ stupid." I ran up the staircase with Karen hot on my tail. The roof was mostly flat if not for a landing pad occupied by my hovercar. Amy was standing on the pad pointing her blaster pistol down at the fat swine, who, to my frustration, was still alive. He was facing away from us, Amy looked over to us with the expression of one who regretted taking the job. That was something we did _not_ need.

Karen didn't show the same weakness. _BANG_. The pigs pig's arm was blown clean off, replaced by a shower of blood and a satisfactory squealing. _BANG_. A gaping hole was suddenly in his lower back. He collapsed, but was _still_ squealing. _BANG_. That one met the back of his skull. The screaming stopped and the portulent corpse lay still.

Karen holstered her pistol and went straight up to the car. I went to Amy. I didn't usually talk a lot, but this warranted it.

She knew _exactly_ why I was upset. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? It was just that... he was..."

"He was what? You know what he was, Amy? He was a target. You don't hesitate when you're paid to kill someone. Least of all someone that is trying to drown out our family business. You just _kill _them like you're paid to."

"Hey, at least I didn't let him go, alright?"

"That ain't good enough. What's gonna happen when I'm not here to babysit you? You're just going to stare at your target like an idiot while his goons catch up to you?" I pointed at the car. "Get in the car. We're leaving."

"No."

"What?"

"I'm sick of this, alright? I don't want to kill any more defenseless people out of cold blood, let alone watch _you_ or that psycho bitch _Karen_ do it."

A yell from the car. "I heard that, you little punk!"

My all-business expression didn't change. "Then what are you going to do? Just quit and sit on your ass while I earn your pay?"

"No, I'm going to find a new job."

"Right. And where will you go?"

"I'm going to enlist."

It took me a second to catch up. She was seriously going to do it; I knew that determined look in her eyes. The same one she gave me when she told me she wasn't going to have her wings removed no matter how much they got in the way.

"Fine."

She looked at me as though I grew a second head. "Fine? You don't care?"

"No. You make your decisions, and I make mine. Go ahead, go enlist in the military. You're a big girl, you can think for yourself. Just..."

"...yeah?"

"At least keep your cell on, you _know_ Mom and Dad are going to want to talk to you about it."

"... fine. Can I get a ride to the starport?"

"No." I got in the drivers seat of my car. "Fly there yourself. Isn't that why you kept the wings?"

"I can't fly that far with them, Jordan!"

"Good thing it's only sixteen kilometers from here, then." I slammed the door shut and pulled the hover car into the air.

If she wanted to forsake our family business so badly, then so be it. She can carry on alone. If she was bullshitting me, it was twice that distance back to our place.

* * *

_=-=-=-=_

_Two days later, Wednesday, April 4th_

_Lylat United Forces Base 19, Corneria City _

_Recruitment Offices_

_1114 Hours_

_=-=-=-=_

Did I start to have regrets for running away from home like that without saying goodbye? Yeah. My parents apparently weren't flipping out though, or at least they understood; because I didn't get a persacom call from either of them. I was almost worried that they didn't care about me anymore because of my decision... but then I saw a deposit of just over five hundred thousand credits into my bank account.

That only made me feel _more_ guilty.

It was too late to turn back, though. I was already all the way in the Lylat system on Corneria, sitting down in the waiting area of the military recruitment offices reception room. Every person that walked through, employee or hopeful alike, gave me the same damn '_What the fuck' look. _I guess I couldn't blame them. How many winged cats do you see? Better yet, how many of the precious few of them would want in the military?

I made up my mind only a few hours earlier that I was going to join the Star Navy. With these stupid things on my back, I would never be able to fit in a fighter cockpit or fight on the front lines. Besides.. I never wanted to see the life drain out of someones eyes again. Call me cowardly if you must. Ironic, isn't it? Fighting is all I've ever known and I still get nightmares about the people I watch die.

My reflecting was interupted by the voice of the cute raccoon girl behind the desk. "Miss. Lombardi? Lieutenant Barnes will see you now."

No, you're right, it's not typical for people to wait in line like the emergency room of a hospital for an interview to get into the military... this was only for people without a Cornerian citizenship. I had to go through a complete background check before I could be admitted into the military, not to mention register my unique needs as far as uniform shirts go. Fuckin' wings.

I nodded to the secretary and walked down a tight hallway that I had to fold my wings back as far as I could to get through. Only one door was open, labled "R. BARNES". I showed myself in. There was a grey furred husky sitting behind a desk in his little office, scribbling on some form or another. He looked up, and gave me that _same damn look..._ "Look, if you're serious about joining the military, come back without the stupid costume."

"They're not a costume, and this is my natural fur colour. " I handed him a folder. "All of the apropriate DNA information and doctors notes are in there if you need proof."

His look changed to one of genuine suprise as he opened the folder and inspected the documents. His eyes lingered for an extra few moments on my side-profile x-rays. "Okay then, sorry about that. Please, take a seat. Let's get started." I did.

"Now..." He pulled a form out from his desk. "Looking at all of this, I don't think I need to remind you that you won't be fit for ground combat. The air force might not like this either, so your combat options are somewhat limited... but there are plenty of rear-line jobs that we should be able to interest you in."

I stopped him. "I want to go through Naval officers training."

"Well, I'm sure that can be arranged with the appropriate criminal record checks, and a proof of advanced highschool education. Am I right in assuming you aren't of Cornerian citizenship?"

Suddenly his comm unit started ringing. He raised a finger to me as though telling me to wait. "Sorry, I just need to get this." He picked up the reciever. "Lieutenant Barnes here, Recruitment services."

.... "General, sir! I... "

My eyebrow raised. A call from a general?

"Of course, sir.... yes. I'll get it done." He scrambled to pull more forms out of his desk. "Yes sir, she's right here." His pen in his free paw started dancing across the sheets of paper. "Immediately, sir." He stretched out the phone to me. "Miss Lombardi, it's for you."

Confused, I took the reciever from him and put it to my ear. "Hello?"

"_Amy._" I knew that voice, it was an old friend of my dad's... Bill. Otherwise known as the Supreme General of the Lylatian United Forces.

"Bill? Is that you?" I had to make sure.

_"Yeah, your dad called ahead. All of your forms will be taken care of, we just need to get your record cleaned up quickly so that none of your superiors see that job your brother dragged you on two days ago. Thankfully you didn't kill anyone, so I'm going to make sure that pardon gets fed through."_

I was stunned. "All of this.. for me?"

_"It's not like we're in a war, I might as well use all of this free time and power to do something useful, eh?"_

"I really appreciate it, General."

_"Hey, don't worry about it. I'll make sure you're on the next ship to the CRMC with approval fed through to get you on the class list and have your residence signed up for. Just give Barnes there your phone number and he'll call you with anything you need."_

"Okay."

_"Oh, and give your folks a call, they're worried sick about you. They tried to call but apparently your persacom doesn't have cross-system access."_

Remember that guilty pit in my stomach? It got _a lot_ bigger just then. "Oh... shit! I forgot about that! I'll get to a paycomm as soon as I'm out of here and give them a call."

_"Might wanna get on that. Falco was pretty pissed off."_

"Of course. Thanks again, Bill."

_"Like I said, don't mention it. Just pay me back by gettin' good marks, okay? Who knows, in a few years you might be in command of your own ship."_

"I'd like that."

_"Talk to you later."_

"Of course. Bye, Bill."

He hung up. I gave the reciever back to Barnes, who hung it up. "Looks like you got yourself a guardian angel. Last person I expected to be calling me today was the freaken Supreme General."

"Here, I'll just give you my number and be out of here, okay? I have to make a call."

"Well, here, you can use my phone." He pushed the unit over to me so I could dial up.

"Oh, thanks..." I dialed in my parents as quickly as my muscle memory would allow. I wonder if the owner of that building would have got mad if he suddenly saw a cross-system long distance call on the phone bill? Oh well.

_Click. "Lombardi PMC, what problem can we solve for you today?"_

"Dad!"

_"Amy! God damn, kid. Me and your motha've been worried sick! Didn't even tell us you were leavin' and then you jump off planet! You be glad I have friends in high places, you would have been in real shit if I didn't have Bill around to clean your record. Is everythin' okay?"_

"Thanks to Bill, yeah... I guess I wasn't thinking about my record..."

_"Yeah, there's a lot of things you didn't think about... like if you were gonna' join the Navy, I could have just stretched the business to fleet escort ships too. You know I can afford that now? Wild shit. I coulda' bought four or five war frigates and had you taking on cargo ship escort missions and spare pirate base huntin' missions on your own bridge... I just wish you woulda' spoke to me first."_

"I'm sorry, Dad... it was just the heat of the moment, you know...? I watched a man beg for his life for like, three minutes and I couldn't pull the trigger. Did you see on the news what Karen did to him?! I just get... I seize up."

_"I know, kid. Your mom's the same way. Look, don't worry about it. You got a long and proud career ahead of ya, whether it's with me or not... I still have Jord to keep things runnin' down here. Besides, don't take offence or nothin' but I think he's plenty fine without the help. Know what I mean?"_

"Yeah." I giggled. Fine was an understatement.

"_I know you saw the money in your account cause you made a withdrawl. That's yours to blow, okay? Just incase things go wrong and you need some backup cash, or whatev'. Don't worry about payin' me back. Oh, make sure to gimme your res address once you get settled in, you and I both know how frustratin' it is to get you new clothes."_

"Yeah... no kidding."

_"Here, your mom wants to talk to ya'."_

"Okay."

I heard a shuffling at the other end and a couple of light pops. _"Amy? Amy, are you alright?"_

"Yeah, I'm fine, Mom. I can handle myself."

_"Apparently not, young lady! Where would you be if we didn't make that deposit and didn't call Bill? You'd be screwed on the other side of the galaxy with no money or way to get back, that's what!"_

I stayed silent until she calmed down. _"... I'm sorry, hon. You know how worried I get. Jordan told me all about what happened, I was pretty mad at him for just leaving you on the crime scene like that but it seems you're doing all right after all. Are you sure you're okay, honey? I know the University is only about twenty minutes away from the McCloud place, do you want their address?"_

"Nah... I'll be alright. Besides, I heard Marie and Aryn both go there. I'll just meet up with them then."

_"Well, okay. I'll let you go. If you ever need anything, give us a call, okay?"_

"Will do, Mom, thanks."

_"Bye, sweetie."_

"Bye."

I hung it up, and Barnes took his phone back. "Now, about that number..."

"Of course."

* * *

_I had more planned for this chapter but it would have turned out longer than 14k words so I decided to cut it off here then I'll add more plot devices and the rest I had planned for here as one chapter. Stay tuned, and see y'all next __time._


	5. Red Skies at Morning

_'Ello 'ello. Huge thanks to Foxmerc to taking up the beta reader spot for this story. The introductions for main characters are done, so the plot can finally start. If you liked Amy Lombardi, you're in luck. You're about to see a lot more of her._

_I hope you've read one of Foxmerc's stories, because you need to know who Dagger is. Hell, this is practically becoming a Merc Wars fanfiction. A fanfiction of a fanfiction... fuck me!_

_Enjoy the show, and thanks for reading._

* * *

_**Chapter Five: Red Skies at Morning**_

_"Life consists not of holding good cards, but playing those you hold well."_

_=-=-=-=_

_Two Years after Amy's Navy Enlistment_

_Thursday, September 12__th__, 40 PLW_

_Cornerian Navy Orbital Shipyard Station Bravo_

_1341 Hours_

_=-=-=-=_

Between classes and spending time in the different scenario simulations, two thirds of my time as a University student went by in a flash. Since there hadn't been a war in two decades, policies on ship staffing were pretty lax, and thus there were "hands on" placements available involving classes getting assignments aboard ships of the line. As a promise from the brass, the top honors class would get to be the first crew aboard the new _Rose _class destroyer, and the top marked student would get to name it and command it for a couple of light duty missions. It was a pretty amazing opportunity considering that one usually doesn't command a ship until like, ten years of service... even if it was only a test run under extreme scrutiny.

The _Rose _class was the first of it's generation, and the first Cornerian vessel to use G-Diffusion technology as part of it's propulsion and defense systems, offering unrivaled maneuvering agility. The G-Diffuser also allowed a new kind of defense weapon; the Gravity Repulsor Beam Cannon, or the affectionately named "Gravity Gun". The G-Gun was capable of doing anything from completely redirecting any physical object, not limited to missiles and fighters, or even "pushing off" of in place objects such as large asteroids or larger ships. When the G-Gun is deployed in a very, _very_ wide frequency it can create a gravitic field several kilometers in diameter that can act as an artificial gravitiy well, stopping ships from entering subspace. It can even disrupt open portals, cutting ships that are only part-way through it in half.

Basically, if this thing caught a ship with it's pants down, there was _no _running away. Our class won the honor of taking this ship out on it's first trip out of dock... but as far as our class went, I got second place. _Fuck._ I was _that close_ to being the Captain.

At least I still got to be the executive officer. The guy that got top was a yellow labrador by the name of Henry Yale. He was smart, and devilishly efficient when it came to command tactics in the sims. I gave up trying to pass him a _long_ time ago, and would even ask him for tips from time to time. As much as I wished for the top spot, he definitely deserved it more than I did. I would settle for second if it meant being under his command. I didn't believe him when he said he didn't come from a long line of legendary Navy commanders. He was a bit of a dickhead, though. He liked rubbing his superiorty in people's faces.

I asked him if he was taking suggestions for naming the ship, but he said he had something special already in mind. I hoped to the Creator it was something good.

Most of the class and the experienced "supervisor" crew were already on the ship preparing for her maiden voyage. As was tradition, the bridge officers and other department chiefs would board the ship only after it was ready to go; warriors coming to claim their freshly tempered weapon, so to speak. There were two shuttles. The first shuttle held the experienced crew executives. I was in a shuttle with the rest of the cadet bridge crew: with Yale of course, a hyena dude named Jesse Devrin who was to be our tactical officer, a black panther named Tyler Jereco on helm, an ocelot woman named Kristine "Krissy" McDonald as chief medical officer, and a sparrow girl by the name of Linda Grace on comms. All of us were in our bridge officer uniforms; a red vest with a golden trim running horizontally abreast, with matching red pants and dress shoes. The proud Cornerian Navy emblem was tapered onto the vest's shoulders with our onboard ranks below them. All of us were officially cadets, signified by a white "C" where the golden rank bars would usually go. However, as long as we were on mission, Yale was to be called Captain, and I was to be called Commander. We each had silver versions of the normally gold rank bars.

_Commander Lombardi_. It had a nice ring to it.

The shuttle pierced the outer barrier of the Cornerian atmosphere and we were plunged into an ocean of stars. To my frustration, we didn't have access to the cockpit to see in front of the shuttle, so we were stuck waiting for a visual angle on our ship. They say that's the best moment of a fledging officer's career; the first gaze at the hull of their first ship. Second place is looking at your first _command. _Yale got screwed on that deal, in my opinion. He had both of those times squashed into one.

Out of all of us, Tyler looked the most jittery. This was his first time in actual space, let alone on a ship of the line. Although, in the sims, he was a damn good pilot... so I couldn't complain about his lack of experience with the real thing. I was pretty new to the idea of being an X/O, too, so I could relate. He was a timid guy who spent most of his time studying navigation and star ship control. If he wasn't using the school facilities, he was running cheap sims off of his computer back at the dorms. He was a cutey, through and through. His eyes almost looked dilated in awe as he watched out the small circular window. He spoke the first words since we broke through atmosphere. "You guys nervous?"

The avian Linda Dorin shuffled from her own seat to the one next to Tyler, so she could get a view out of the same window. She was a bit more outgoing, which was fitting for a communications officer. She knew every Lylatian language like the back of her hand, and if I didn't know she was born and raised in Corneria City I would never have been able to guess where she was from. She could practically change accents at will, and she liked to show that ability off at every chance. Annoyingly confident in her abilities she may be, but she had a lot of initiative and would always try to help in whatever way she could even if she wasn't called upon. She looked out to the stars with a frown. "It wouldn't so bad without all of the damn media grunts fluttering around. It's like they've never seen a ship leave port before."

Krissy McDonald the ocelot was absently staring out of her own window. Like I mentioned earlier, she was the chief medical officer. She liked to act like she wasn't at the top of the food chain, but she definitely was. A genius in an assassins body... an unerving mixture considering her occupation. She's the kind of girl who prefers an autopsy over dealing with live patients simply because they annoyed her less, but she had her doctorates in Medicine, Kineseology and General Surgery. Needless to say, with all of that medical training, she was the oldest of us at the age of thirty-one. There was no one else in our school - hell, maybe even the whole fleet - I would trust more with the health of our crew. She nodded in agreement, sitting alone at the back corner of the shuttle gazing out at our view of Corneria below us. "Yeah, I hear that. There's enough pressure on us as it is with the brass breathing down our necks..."

As usual, Yale always knew what to say. He was being his usual tough guy self, head bowed in respect to his station with his arms crossed. "This mission is wrought by symbolism. We are the vanguard of a new generation of officers in a new line of ship designs. The last forty-odd years have been a maelstrom of panic and have left the people in a state of paranoia. With the promise of ships like the _Rose-_class in space, constantly vigilant on our borders, the people finally feel the safety that comes with the knowledge of advanced warships sailing the stars to make sure they can sleep soundly."

A speech like that would normally have silenced a petty conversation like that, but the hyena Jesse always had to have the last word. He was a loudmouth, cocky, arrogant bastard but he earned most of his self praise. Everyone knows he became a tactical officer because he liked being the one to pull the trigger on guns the size of classrooms, but no one complains because he can hit a dime with any of them. He was always the first person people would run to when they needed a tactical officer for their command exam simulations. That, and he was incredibly loyal. A jerk he may be, but he was one of my closer friends. Maybe because we're both from Kew, and maybe becauase we both were raised in a criminal environment. It just kinda made me squirm every time I realized how similar he was to that psycho Karen... but at least Jesse had a sense of honor. "Yeah, that's deep and all, but the _Rose_ class isn't even that strong of a ship... it's only a destroyer which they're crewing with a bunch of undergrads. You would think they'd put more effort into a battleship or some other capital. Did I mention that the CNJ Indignation is still fluttering around? I dare someone to attack that behemoth."

Yale looked up to his tactical officer. "Bragging about that ship only reminds everyone that it was Venomian built... it reminds them that the enemies of Corneria have access to the technology and resources to create something so devastating. It may be in our control now, but unless we show them that we can develop just as capable war machines, people won't be able to rest easy."

"Heh, like the _Rose_ would ever stand up to a Juggernaught. Right."

I shook my head. "Jesse, you need to learn when to shut up. Would you rather be stuck in the classrooms? We worked hard to get this chance. We're not even done school and we get our own ship. How cool is that?"

"Heh, like it's actually ours. We're practically being recorded while we sleep, and there's a whole bunch of people that out rank us running around making sure we don't do anything they don't want us to. It's not so much a command as it is a puppet show. I'd prefer the sims any day."

Tyler spoke up again, pointing excitedly out the window. "Hey, guys! Look! We have an angle on the _Rose!_"

Even Yale bounced to the seats at the other side of the shuttle to look out the window. I took the seat beside him, peering out at the lone, skeletal shipyard and the ship hovering in the ribcage-like station.

She wasn't big, but I didn't expect big. It looked like a triangular passenger ship with three thrusters (two smaller ones to the left and right of a larger one) sticking out of the back. At the left and right points of the triangle section were what looked like thin and long wings with two swiveling, cylindrical thrusters on each tip. The "flat" sides of the triangular section bulged out into a sleek, aerodynamic curve widening up to the back of the ship. On the top was a beam cannon in the center just behind the bridge (which was signified with a small, coin-like bulge on the otherwise sleek surface) , a flak gun to either side of that, and two pulse turrets along the edges leading up to the front point. As we flew closer, I noticed the exact same armaments on the bottom side as well. Two beam cannons weren't going to turn the tide of a battle, but they were still formidable weapons capable of doing a hell of a lot of damage in the right hands. Everything else was mostly for point-blank defense against fighters and missiles, but the pulse lasers could also be used for surgical targeting on unshielded targets. I didn't notice any obvious missile bays, which didn't surprise me, but there should have been at least a few torpedo bays for that extra anti-capital punch. I also noticed the little spotlight-like contraption that was the Gravity Gun sticking off the bow tip. I wasn't too concerned about weapons though... I doubted that we would be getting into combat.

"She's beautiful..." Linda breathed. As though to give us a joyride view of the illustrious vessel, the shuttle made a pass over it's bridge close enough so that we could make out the individual windows with the naked eye. Then I noticed it... the big black lettering across the front of the ship.

_ND – 6201A – C.N.S. ANGEL_

Rage built up within me immediately like a kettle boiling over as I glared at the lettering. "Yale, you named it the _Angel?_"

He grinned at me like he thought he was the smartest son of a bitch in Lylat. "I thought it was fitting. Like I said, this is a christening of symbolism; the people looking up to the skies for their mythical protector. What more fitting a name than a religious symbol?"

I could have slapped the prick. I settled with hissing at him angrily. "Bull shit. You did it because you _knew _I would hate it, and you're rubbing your command in my face. You gave the ship my _middle name!_ You _know_ I hate that! It's a full out pun!" As though to show off my point, I flapped my wings forcefully in his direction, blowing his fur around in the wind. I could pump them hard enough to knock an unsuspecting target onto his ass. I was almost tempted to wait until his interview with the press then do it.

His grin changed, betraying his intentions for mischief. "A little from column A, a little from column B." I knew he wasn't as chivalrous as he liked to show off. Son of a bitch. "But the fact remains, that's the name now. Already registered. Get used to it."

"You're so lucky I didn't get command. To compare it to you, I would have had to name it the _festering corpse_."

Jesse laughed at our exchange. "Jeez, you two fight like an old married couple."

"Shut up!" I hissed at him.

"Yes, _Commander._"

I ignored his sarcastic tone, offering another annoyed glare at Yale as the shuttle slowed down to dock with the _Angel_. Despite my outburst he seemed just as confident with his stance as before, so I gave up. A hiss emitted from the back of the shuttle as the docking seal repressurized. The six of us hastily lined up in front of the door... god knows there was going to be a media nightmare waiting for us at the other side.

Yale tried to be reassuring. "Just keep your happy faces on. Show them that we're professionals worthy of their trust."

I tried to mat down my hair to make sure it was camera worthy, even though I spent almost an hour this morning making sure I was in top visual shape. I could yell at Henry later.

We walked through the doorway in single file, and were immediately awash with irritating camera flashes and an outburst of interrogative chattering. Representatives from every major media company must have been compressed into the hallway. Two marines that were standing guard at the airlock were politely asking people to step aside and let us through. When my eyes recovered from the flashes I swiveled my head around taking in the scenery of the ship's construction. Rather than the sterile white, rectangular cooridors that I was used from other ships of the line in simulations, this ship's hallways were all arounded, and a darker blue/purple. It reminded me of some crazy alien ship from a science fiction novel; most of the lighting came from these...veins... of light that were networked through the middle of the ceiling. I had a hunch that they also doubled as power or data lines... incredible in either case.

As we approached the center of the ship, the hallway fed into a large central chamber that looked like a social atrium; looking around and noticing the serving counters at the stern end of the room I guessed that it must have been the galley. This room was far better lit, making the walls look more of a metallic cyan colour. The media scrubs followed us in; and judging by the yellow tape at every other hallway, this was where we were supposed to let them bug the shit out of us with obvious questions.

To my relief, most were surrounding Yale, but I got my fair share of attention, I was barely out of the hallway before some hedgehog guy cut me off and raised a microphone to his face, an eager holocameraman standing behind him.

"Ms. Lombardi, a moment of your time, please!" He didn't pass me the microphone, so I just nodded, and he continued. "Many viewers have expressed their interest in your motives involving joining the Navy, considering you were raised in the business of your father, the famous Falco Lombardi. What drove you to make such a radical change in lifestyle?" he pointed the microphone at me.

The question caught me off guard. I guess in my time there I forgot that some eyes might be on me just for the fact that I'm the daughter of a famous war hero. I always figured everyone had forgotten about him in the times of peace. On the other hand, why were they asking me this here? I suppose all of the ship-related questions would be either with Yale or the brass. I maintained my warm professional smile and improvised. "Well, the life of a mercenary isn't for everyone. Working for my dad certainly had it's perks, but when push came to shove it was time to look for a different career. I was raised a fighter, but I still wanted to help other people so... what better way to get both than to join the forces?"

Ten points for me. Good answering on the fly. I knew we had public speaking class for a reason. The microphone glided towards the reporters face again. "On a more relevant note, how is the idea of being the second in command aboard a prototype star ship when you haven't even graduated yet? What can you tell us about your reaction to the Student Crewing program?"

Ah, good, an easier one. "It's an honour, to be sure. A lot of the class are nervous about the assignment, but everyone can rest assured that there is more than enough experienced personel aboard the _Angel_ to make up for our class' lack of the same. I think it's a great opportunity to get some hands on experience, not to mention get a feel of the new generation of ships that will be in service during our prime."

"One more question..." I noticed the cameraman step back and decrease his zoom. Bastard was scoping my wings. "How do you feel about Captain Yale's choice of name for the ship, the _CNS Angel_?"

I stole a glance at Henry, who must have noticed because he shot a mischevious grin in my direction. "No comment." I grumbled. Thankfully, the reporter took my hint.

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Lombardi, and good luck with your placement.

"Thanks..." I tried to push my way out of the crowd without actually pushing anyone. Thankfully no one else saw fit to bug me, but I still got a few of those _same damn looks._ I looked around clumsily for any kind of direction signs until I found a holographic directory on a wall nearby. I checked which hallway would lead to the bridge, eager to get a feel for it. No one got in my way as I went over the yellow tape down the hallway. The double sliding doors at the end of the hallway opened for me automatically allowing me access to the _Angel_'s control room.

It wasn't what I expected a new, futuristic bridge to be like, but that's far from a complaint. Rather than being in keeping with the triangular shape of the ship, the room was oval-like, with it's wider ends at the bow and the stern. It was more or less separated into two halves; a lower half at the bow with the Helm and Tactical consoles side by side at the front, and the three executive chairs near the half line. The top half had one big ring console that has access to all of the passive functions of the ship, including comms. The halves were about three feet in height difference, joined by stairs against the outer wall.

No one was in there but me, so I thought I would nab what I thought would be my only chance to sit in the captains chair. It was big and soft. I sank into it like when you first put your head on a new pillow. I dreamed of what it would be like to be the captain of my own ship someday... on a real placement, rather than this choked publicity stunt.

"Out of the chair..." The voice startled me. It was Yale. I jumped out of 'his' chair with a start and landed in the not nearly as comfortable XO's chair beside it. Well, it was still comfortable... but didn't have all of that throne-like grandeur of the center seat. A constant reminder of second place.

No one followed him in, thankfully. I was sick of the media attention already. He took the seat that I was abusing only moments before, looking out of the front viewport at the stars. "You know, you really should be the one in this seat. Did I ever tell you that? I almost felt guilty when I saw the marks."

I scoffed. "I'm sure you felt real guilty when you picked the name."

He shook his head. "I didn't mean it to offend you. I actually _didn't _know you would react badly to it. I thought you would appreciate it."

"Shoulda asked first."

"Like a man asks his girlfriend what kind of jewelry she likes?"

"I find your choice of comparison disturbing."

"Well, the deed is done. Take it how you want." I never thought of him in that light, before. This conversation was definitely a surprise. Maybe a professional relationship, the same between two students on the top of the pile who enjoy spending time together simply because they know they're smarter than everyone else... but I was starting to think he liked me in a totally different way. Hell, he named a _ship_ after me. Was I being a bit too rash?

I wasn't sure yet whether his curiosity was touching or irritating. I was still making up his mind when he prodded me again. "Why _don't _you like it, anyway?"

"The name, or the fact you named this ship after me?"

"The name."

I sighed. "Other than the fact it's a ridiculous pun?"

"Okay, I'll rephrase it. Do you not like your wings?"

"No. They get in the way, and cause everyone around me to give me a look that tells me they're considering pulling a gun to make sure I don't spread my mutant genes to my children."

I knew the question was coming. "...Then why not have them removed?"

To tell the truth, I never really did have an answer to that question. Twenty years old, and I always thought about it. I tried to shove it off as simple fear, but I knew deep down that wasn't the case... but that was the first time I considered the only truly plausible theory. _Because I did like them._

The look on my face probably gave away what I was thinking, because he grinned in satisfaction and returned his gaze to the viewport. "That's what I thought."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, eyes wandering around the pristine bridge.

* * *

_=-=-=-=_

_Meanwhile...._

_Outside General Grey's Office_

_Cornerian Army Command HQ, Corneria City_

_1410 Hours_

_=-=-=-=_

_Narrative: Gage Birse_

I hated being behind a desk. It wasn't where I belonged. It was always a solid rule in my time with Dagger that we don't retire; we stay in the field until someone finally gets that lucky shot in that ends our career for good. Turns out that wasn't the case; I either really was that damn good or I was luckier than I ever gave myself credit for. I stayed on active duty until I was fifty years old before I finally settled down with Andrea (Yeah, yeah, I'm married to Wolf O'Donnell's sister, galaxy's greatest irony and all that... have your laugh) and took up a spot training new Spec Ops grunts. They had to name the whole damn base after me to drill the idea in my head that I was the best guy for the job.

At least the pay was good... that was one nice change over field work.

That went on for twelve years; the same shit day after day. The most interesting things that happened to me anymore were when I would hook up with Fox or someone for a drink, or maybe go down to the range to show some of the more overconfident recruits how shooting is done. I tried to keep in shape, but age was catching up to me quickly. Don't get me wrong; I could still floor someone with the same grace as I always could... but my stamina isn't what it used to be. I couldn't run my ten clicks every morning anymore, and I was starting to get badgered by doctors to take it easy and enjoy my retirement.

Suffice to say, all of this left me to be surprised when the Supreme General called me up to his office for an assignment, without any other details except that he wanted me on Corneria as fast as humanly possible. So, I got all puckered up in my command officer's uniform and grabbed the first shuttle off of Katina, and a couple hours later, there I was.

His door slid open for me automatically as I approached, and the General was already behind his desk with his paws folded together. His office, to no ones surprise, put mine to shame. It alone made up the top floor of the HQ, being a glass dome that really let the sunshine brighten up the place. With all of the plants around the outside of the room, it almost looked like a botanist pavillion. His desk was a big ring that was open behind him, with tons of pictures about everything from his family to his time as an Air Force pilot. It was funny, really, he was the third General in a row to be close to Fox. Pepper only half so; he already was a big shot but the stunning success of his deployment of Star Fox put him ontop of the totem pole. General Hare was his godfather and team mate, and now Bill was here; one of his best friends and, like Fox, an ace pilot.

I had met the guy a few times, but hadn't seen him in person for around a decade. Age didn't really change him as much as the weight of his position did, and he didn't seem much happier behind a desk than I was. "I'm glad you showed up so quick, Birse. We have a problem, and I want you back out on the field."

I took the fact that he used my name instead of my rank as an invitation to speak freely, the same permission I used to offer myself a seat in front of his desk. "The field, sir? I've been retired for twelve years."

"Don't worry about that, I'll explain. Are you briefed on the Titania situation?"

"Yes, sir. The top secret laboratory that was broken into by a sudden large scale pirate attack, allegedly by the same people that overthrew the Star Wolf empire on Kew six years ago. What about it?"

"Sierra team came back four days ago with intel leading us to believe that the man behind that mess was a bat named Vincent Xavier; the only data we have on him is that he was once part of the Scarlet Hand... I doubt I need to brief you on them."

"Black Scythe ripoffs with ace pilot training. They went underground after the first war and stayed out of sight until they helped us take Andross down twenty two years ago. Since then they disbanded.... but I thought O'Donnell was a member of that, why would Xavier take him out?"

He stood up and gestured to the door before continuing. I took up file behind him and off we went towards the elevator. "Truth be told, we don't know. What we _do_ know, however, is that one of the more sensitive materials on that base was a large amount of stable red matter. Do you know what it is?" The glass elevator doors opened up for us automatically.

"No, sir."

I didn't catch what button he hit, but away we went, down into the depths of HQ to god knows where. "Red matter, when detonated or otherwise destabilized, implodes to create gravitic singularities of amazing power. A couple hundred millilitres of the stuff can create a gravity well strong enough to swallow a whole planet... Xavier is now in possession of more than five litres. With the right science geeks on the job, he could make a bomb strong enough to consume the entire system."

Well, that wasn't good. "Do we have any leads on finding this guy?"

The view through the glass walls of the elevator showed us the nicely and expensively decorated interior of the base. We didn't stop at any of the balconies that we dropped through, we kept going downwards right into the ground to the basement levels. "Unfortunatley, no. But we know that there are only two people that know how to use the stuff to make a bomb... the two head engineers of Arspace Dynamics."

"I know Slippy Toad is one of them... but the other?"

"Skye Greyson."

Shit. Bad news. Greyson was the former leader of the Hand. While his memories were _apparently_ wiped decades ago, I knew for a fact he knew who he was, because his own wife was also a member and she had her memories intact. If Xavier, a member of the Hand, stole the ingredients to a superweapon only his former comrade can build... whether Fox trusted him or not, I only needed to put two and two together to know that Skye was a problem. A big one.

I collected my thoughts and spoke once we left the elevator. The white washed walls reminded me of the many infirmaries I found myself in over the years, but a sign hanging down from the roof corrected me. _SUB LEVEL SIX: EXPERIMENTAL TECHNOLOGIES – RESTRICTED ACCESS._

"But why are you telling me this? Both of us are just old men, any of our squads should be able to bring him in without any trouble." We were alone in the hallway, our footsteps echoing off the walls.

"Well, that's exactly the problem. With his position in AD, he has access to the TE-CANIS II armor suits that he helped design. He is now not only as capable as he was in his prime, but far beyond. Fortunately for us..."

"Didn't we _just _get a shipment of those for our elite units?"

"Exactly. You're retired, so I can't force you into anything, Colonel... but, when this turns into a shit fight, _which it will, _looking at all the cards.... I need the best of the best; squads I can count on. If we can get Dagger back together in the new nanosuits, that's just one more ace in the hole we'll have at our disposal to prevent as many deaths as we can."

I didn't even have to think about it. "You have me, but I don't know about everyone else. Most of us have been retired for years and'll need more convincing."

"I'm relatively sure we'll only need three of you; Ley is still in service playing training wheels for Sierra, and Delaine is currently teaching sniper school at the JPA. Both are still in the chain of command so they don't _really_ have a choice."

I smiled. Not that butt ugly, warm prideful smile I grew used to giving graduating recruits; it was the predator's smile I used to put on every time I was united with my team in a squeeze. _There goes the neighborhood..._ "They wouldn't pass up this chance regardless." Grey stepped out ahead of me to an extremely tough looking door and in particular, the keypad on the wall next to it. He typed out a digustingly long password and the door hissed before yielding to us. No one was inside; just computers, tubes, and several brightly lit pods in the center of the room.

The General smiled as he pressed a big red button on a console completely devoted to it. One of the pods began to hiss and crack open at the center, opening up to show us its contents. "Behold, the Arwing of ground combat. The Toad-Enterprises Combat Adaptive Nanotech Interface Suit model two, or the CANIS armor."

Sure enough, inside the pod was the suit. It didn't look as bulky as I expected; rather it looked like a thin, silver snake scale full body suit, without a helmet. It looked generally featureless, just a bit of black padding at most of the joints and a deeper silver belt-line that looked thicker than the rest of the suit.

"Something tells me there's more to this than meets the eye."

"_A lot_ more... Here, try it on." The suit descended from the pod by way of the hooks that were holding it up until it was within my grasp. I pulled it down; the texture was almost rough, like an extremely tight woven shirt but with the sleek coldness of metal. It was in two pieces; a shirt half and a pants half, both of which loose enough to fit over my uniform. I pulled them on quickly, and to my surprise, the moment I let them hang off of me, they tightened around my form. Oddly enough, it didn't feel restricting despite how tight it was against me. I tried wiggling my fingers, and it practically stretched to give me full leeway to manouver. It was like a second layer of skin.

He circled me and started going over the features, reading from a manual I didn't see him pick up. "The TE-CANIS II armor is a multi-functional platform fit to the brim with functions primarily useful to a combat, stealth and insertion specialist. Primary functions include strength and stamina stimulation upon command..."

As he said it, the suit scales glowed a dim red. I couldn't find anything to test it on, so instead I just tried jumping. To my surprise, my legs carried me further into the air than I expected. I almost hit the roof of the chamber (which had to have been at least fifteen feet high) and landed, thankfully painlessly, on the ground again. I heard none of the metallic clamoring on impact that I expected. "Holy _shit" _was all I could say.

"...active camoflauge..."

The suit acted on it's own again. Poof, I couldn't see my arms. I checked the rest of my body with similar results. I was _gone_. I even tried looking at my muzzle, and despite not having a helmet of any kind, my head was invisible as well.

"... shielding against small arms..."

Before I could react, I felt a heard the familiar crack of a pistol, and felt a minor tingling sensation on my back. When I turned around, I saw Grey holding out a smoking Tyreal Mark 4.

"... and a plethora of other functions all laid out in this manual." He lowered the pistol, and the surprisingly thick booklet with it.

"This has to be the coolest toy ever. Christmas in September! Are they permanently issued to Dagger?"

"Yes, they're all yours. That suit is legally registered under your unit, and is yours to do whatever you will with as long as you're with the military. Now, suit up properly and stop by the armory to grab tranquiziler weapons. I want you deployed to grab Greyson within the hour."

_=-=-=-=_

_Forty minutes later_

_Corneria City countryside_

_=-=-=-=_

Just like old times. Kind of.

I never really talked to Erica or Rick much anymore. We were friends through combat. Don't get me wrong, we were still friends after Dagger disbanded. How couldn't we be after all the shit we sifted through together? It's just that... once the dust settled, we each had to go our separate ways, none of which involved each other. We weren't even on the same planet 99% of the time. One thing was for sure though, it was damn nice to be working with them again... and not from behind a god damn desk. The three of us were in the cargo bay of what was disguised as a farm equipment transport van. On the inside it was practically a mobile armory, although we sadly had to leave most of the toys behind. All three of us were equipped with stun blasters. Mine was a psuedo assault blaster, Ley's was a more compact sub-machine-blaster, and Delaine with his standard marksman rifle with its damage output decreased to the lowest setting it could reach.

Erica Ley was the team's CQB specialist, and a wizard of steath and knife-play to the point where she had earned the affectionate title of the "walking silencer." A tomboy leopardess through and through, sarcastic commentary and smartassery included, no assembly required. Age had treated her very well; it almost seemed like she hadn't aged a day. I wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not that she was still single. Happily single, probably. I decided to ask her about it once we were done with Greyson over a drink or something.

The wolf Richard Delaine, on the other hand, definitely looked his age. His fur greyed even more than it already had, and he grew a moderate sized beard. I almost didn't recognize him at first if not for his obligatory Creator's Star necklace and his signature green bandana. He kept in shape, though, and I could see the clear-cut soldiers physique under his nanosuit.

The driver turned around and spoke to us through the small grated window separating us from him. "We're about a couple minutes out."

I nodded. "Roger that." I turned to my comrades. "Now, Fox dragged me to one of his crazy reunions one time and Skye was hosting it, so I already know the place. There's two buildings on his property; his house and his... lab, or whatever. It's bigger than the house, and also doubles as a hangar for his and his wife's fighters. That building is in the back. Rick, you're gonna set up in the woods surrounding the place with a vantage point on both buildings."

"Got it." he grunted. I still couldn't believe how much older he sounded. I probably sounded the same way but it was more difficult to notice when I heard myself every day.

"Erica, I want you going for the lab. I'll go to their house. If both are there, I'll call you in. Check?"

"Mmhmm." She pulled the magazine jam on the SMG back to lock the charge clip into place. "Rules of engagement?"

I shrugged. "Well, technically Skye hasn't done anything wrong so we're not supposed to be _bagging_ him at all. We can't just kill him, considering how famous and rich he is. It'll bring a lot of bad rap and even worse questions... If by some sickly slim chance that we miss him, we're to let him go and just check his house instead for any clues as to where he went. We weren't here."

She just nodded in affirmation as the rear doors flew open. We were greeted by a country road in the middle of the woods. The Greyson place wasn't within eye shot, but his mailbox was. It was through the woods to our right. I jumped out first. "Let's do it. Engage active camo." The three of us vanished into thin air. The only way I could track their positions was with a makeshift radar that suddenly became a part of my eyesight through the suit neural-linking capabilities. There were a lot of cool features like that... and I had only begun to hit the tip of the iceberg when it came to all of the awesome gadgets built into it.

A short trip through the woods showed me the target zone. Damn, did he ever have a nice place. Comes with being a head researcher for ASD and a university professor all in one, I guess. My active camo was holding up, so I didn't stop for visual cover first. I went right for the front door. "Erica, are you at the lab?"

_"Ready for breach, sir."_

I reached the front door, keeping my footsteps silent. "Go for it." I quickly checked if the door was locked first before forcing it open, and was surprised to find it as unlocked as could be. I stormed in, rifle at the ready, checking all my corners. My camo fizzled out and started to recharge.

It was a pretty nice place. On the outside it looked like flat wood panelling, but on the inside was a more genuine log cabin look, dim lighting and all. Dim lighting smelled of a trap... but I didn't feel tense... I wasn't sure why until I checked all of my senses. Dim lighting, no sound, the heat was on so _someone_ was home... it was the smell. I could smell smoke. Tobacco smoke. Wherever he was, he was kicking back and relaxing. I made my way through the dining room (god damn, it was big!) and the kitchen before storming into the living room.

There the cocky bastard was, not even startled in the slightest, sitting on his fancy looking black leather couch with a lit corncob pipe hanging out of his mouth.

He pulled it out, letting out a whiff of smoke. "It is usually polite to knock, first."

Smart ass. "Shut up." I had a few questions for him, but more importantly for my teammates. I brough a paw to my ear. "Ley, any sign of his wife?"

_"No, sir. One of the Arwings is gone. Safe to say she booked it."_

"Meet me at the house, I have him. Rick, you keep an eye out and watch for any ambush attempts."

_"Roger that."_

_  
"Keeping an eye out."_

Skye took another puff from his pipe, apparently completely oblivious that he was looking down the barrel of an SXC120. "Oh, in case you're wondering, Grey called ahead."

"He _what?" _figuring he wasn't about to put up any resistance if he knew I was coming, I lowered my rifle.

He spoke quietly and confidently despite the obligatory tension in the air. "Indeed. He trusts me, but duty demands that he covers all of his angles. I can assure you that I will be long burning in hell before someone gets their hands on my knowledge of the mechanics of gravitic weaponry. Mr. Toad too, I imagine. The point is, though, had I resisted not knowing the situation, it would have done my innocence no credit. As such, I will go with you peacefully until my name is cleared and Vince is brought in."

I raised an eyebrow. "Simple as that?"

"Simple as that, Colonel Birse." Whatever tension there was in the air before, it was gone now. I relaxed.

"What about Janice?"

"Why, I sent her off to find Vince, of course. _Someone_ has to recover the red matter."

"You don't think we could handle it?"

"Not at all. A good reputation proceeds you, Colonel, but no one knows my former team's tendancies and tactics like we do. If there is anyone qualified to nullify this situation it is us. Unfortunately, me being behind bars will not serve to that end, nor will Fay and Drake's careers in the military... so, rather, Janice has gone out mostly for intel gathering. You can probably expect little tidbits of help here and there from the middle of nowhere. Ultimately, you are certainly the best man for the job. Do not betray my trust."

I rolled my eyes. "And what's telling me that you didn't just send your wife straight to Vince with the bomb plans?"

He didn't look exactly amused either; he wore the same face one would give a kid who's asking too many obvious questions. "Well, that would be awfully silly of me to give Vince the means to destroy the planet I'm locked up on. I'd like to think my self-preservation instinct is a bit more in tune than that."

Couldn't deny that logic, I guess. "Just get outside, there's a truck waiting for us."

"Very well." he started walking, but paused. "Wait, you may want to grab my laptop from my bedroom upstairs. There is quite a bit of sensitive information on its hard drive."

"Err, okay."

".... Oh, and I have to leave a note for my son." he said more solemnly.

"....Make it quick."

Skye pulled scrap paper out of an end table beside the couch and a pen from his pocket and started writing, I took the time to dial up Grey.

"General, it's Birse."

He didn't even hesitate to start talking. _"I know what you're thinking; don't worry about it now. Just get him back here and I'll explain everything to you._"

"......Aye."

_=-=-=-=_

_CNS Angel Command Bridge_

_Orbit over Corneria_

_16:55 Hours_

_=-=-=-=_

Folding my wings back, I briskly walked through the door onto the bridge. The crew was all settled in, and we had our orders for the _Angel'_s maiden voyage. For the love of the Creator, it was a damned diplomatic escort mission... covered in media presence. We were the fore of three ships, the other two being older fleet escorts just to show off our military muscles. That, and there was at least six or seven media freighters buzzing around out there as the _Angel_ floated lazily in orbit. The bridge officers and other personell were buzzing around their consoles, the silence I enjoyed a couple of hours ago replaced by the clattering of busy preparation for launch and the musical tones of button presses and console alerts.

The diplomat we were escorting, a skunk man by the name of Jason Du'Buleau, was riding with us. We were heading to a station near Kew where their government agreed to hold the negotiations for introducing the now free planet into the Cornerian alliance. It was six years since the death of Wolf O'Donnell and the planet was finally getting a hold of itself again. Du'Buleau and Yale would be going onboard the agreed-upon station for the boring meetings. Me? I got to sit on the bridge and wait. I wasn't sure which was worse.

I took my seat to the right of Yale in his captains seat. To the left of him was the skunk in the guests seat. Henry looked to me and held out a paw. "Everyone reported in?"

I handed him a datapad I was carrying. "All crew members accounted for and at their stations, and we have signatures for launch clearance. We're good to go, Captain."

He took it. "Awesome." He scrolled through it, quickly looking over my handiwork. "Everything checks out. I guess it's time to get moving." He handed me back the datapad. I didn't really think about what I was going to do with it so I held onto it for the time being. Henry scrawled his fingers over his command chair console and opened a channel to the whole ship.

"All crew and passengers, this is Captain Yale speaking. All reports check out and we have been cleared for launch. All stations, prepare for orbit break. " He shut down the channel.

I looked back to Linda who was fluttering around the communications station. "Dorin, contact the escorts and notify them we're breaking orbit for primary objective. Notify Jump Gate Control that we're inbound and have them open the prepared gate coordinates."

"Yes, ma'am." Her wing shot to her ear as she started speaking words that were lost in the busy chattering before they reached my ears.

Yale turned his attention to Tyler sitting in the helm control seat in front of us. "Jereco, warm up the jump drive and bring us out of orbit at half-sublight throttle. Set a course for the warp gate.

"Understood." he turned to his console and started typing in a blur. "Course set, engines engaged."

The view out of the front window glided away from the planet below us towards the stars. I checked my own console, and the escorts -and all of the media pests- were following faithfully. Soon enough, the tell tale green glow of the Corneria jump gate expanded before us, a huge water pool-like surface greeting us. We surged forward, diving right into it. Everything we could see was quickly replaced by the rainbow flow of subspace travel.

Tyler looked back to us. "Jump successful, we're on route." _Thanks for the obvious, jack ass._ Anyway... having gone through the gate, the trip would only take about a half hour.

And boy, did it go by slowly.

Between Yale puckering up as much as humanly possible and me following him and the diplomat around mostly for respectful presence, it was a wonder that day was ever going to end. Thankfully, the media rats couldn't dock with us at warp. Hopefully they would all be busy aboard the station and decide not to latch onto my ship like leeches. I hated answering their questions almost as much as I hated being nicknamed "The Angel" on newspaper covers.

We were in the ship's hangar bay. Being a little destroyer the _Angel's_ hangar wasn't big enough for any fighters, or anything more than a single visiting dropship. We had our two little basic away transport shuttles with enough space for a third, and that was it. We stood outside one, the diplomat boarding and Yale close behind him before he stopped.

"Amy..." he gave me a look he never gave me before... it was one of fear. It took me a second to realize its sarcastic nature. "If anything happens..."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh stop being so dramatic and get on the shuttle, you."

He melted into a playful grin and threw me a mock salute. "Yes ma'am."

"Try not to fall asleep in the board room."

His eyes widened in mock realization. "Good Creator! I'd feel better about my chances if you asked me to walk back home from here."

My laughter followed him aboard the shuttle and I was soon drowned out by the engines starting up. I went straight back up to the bridge, to my boring watch... and my temporary place in the big comfy captains seat.

Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours. The crew more or less started to nod off. Me, Linda and Jesse started a Euchure game on the bridge and since Tyler didn't play, we called up Krissy from sick bay. After Jesse and I wiped them out twice in a row we started switching up partnerships, only to later realize that Jesse was simply unstoppable at the game no matter who his partner was. If any senior officers saw us screwing around like this, they'd probably ship us back to Corneria on the spot. As the time slowly wittled away, I started to pray for something interesting to happen just to break out of our boredom.

After that day, I never, _ever_, prayed again.

Jesse and Krissy were plowing through their third consecutive win when we were suddenly interupted by his console. We ignored it for a few seconds.

I nodded my head towards his seat. "You should probably check what that is."

He rolled his eyes, laying down his hand face down and going over to his seat. "Fine..."

It was when he didn't suddenly walk back over to us saying _"Nah, it was nothing"_ was when I began to worry. Instead, he sat there for a few seconds, stunned into silence and stillness.

"Ummm... guys? There's five contacts coming in on radar. Frigate size, I think. They're showing up as hostile IFF and will drop out of warp at our coordinates in two minutes."

"... Try hailing them."

Linda sprang up from her chair and dashed to her console, her wingtips dancing across the pad. "Sending..."

A brief pause.

"Nothing, ma'am. Totally ignored."

We all froze and looked at eachother...

...Until I busted out of our trance and into action. "Combat alert! All hands to battle stations!!!" The card table was knocked to the floor and we ignored it. Everyone scrambled back to their stations, and Krissy fled the bridge back down to sickbay where she might be needed if Creator forbid, we needed to recieve wounded from the station. I parked my ass in the Captains chair and heard the distinct drone of our shields raising. A combat status display appeared on my chair console, with read outs of our shields and weapons status. The low pitch, persistant beeping of the combat alert klaxon alarms sounded off. The screen displays around the edges of the roof all dropped their random, boring information and replaced it with _-COMBAT ALERT – ALL CREW TO BATTLE STATIONS – _in a fitting angry red font.

Go time. "Linda, contact the _Tiberius _and the _Exodar_. I know we have better long range scanners than them so they might have not picked our playmates up yet."

"Negative, ma'am, the _Tiberius_ is hailing us."

"On screen."

The bridge viewport lit up with the image of an older, grey furred fox. I recognized him as Captain Tidus. "Commander Lombardi, we picked up your rise to combat alert. What's going on?"

"My tactical officer just picked up five hostile frigate sized ships on long range sensors on an intercept course with the station. We have confirmed that their weapons are charged. They're coming in from..." I looked to Jesse. "Heading?"

"Two seventy by ninety, ma'am. Station centerpoint, our zero." That orientation was for on the fly navigation when in semi-uncharted territory. It involved setting a center compass point, which in this case was the station, and a point that counted as "North", or zero/zero degrees. That was us. The numbers were the compass degree angles in comparison to the direction from the station to us. I checked my console. The heading they were approaching from, based on what Jesse was telling me, was in the middle of deep space... I noted that fact in the back of my brain for future reference.

The captain heard Jesse and continued. "Roger that, good eyes. We're just getting them on sensors now. Follow our lead, but remember; you're the big dog out here. We'll need your firepower put to best use if we're going to win this engagement. I'm calling in reinforcements now and I'm going to have the station and all of the media freighters evacuated. Keep your cool, and if things get rough, remember that the station is the top priority until the civilians are evacuated. Understood?"

"Aye, sir. We're ready."

"We can only hope you are. _Tiberius_ out." The screen showed me the dark of space again.

"Smartass..." I heard Linda retort.

Back to action. "Tyler, calculate their entry point and put us into a position to whack them as they come in. Jesse, bring all weapons online and charge them up for a snap shot. We need to get the first shots in... might even get them before their shields materialze properly if we do this right. Linda, I want you working on identification and communications interception the second they jump in."

"You got it, Amy." Tyler got right to work, and the _Angel_ was on the move.

Jesse grinned, and I could hear the whine of the beam cannons charging. "Understood."

Linda simply nodded. "Okay."

Boom. They were on us. Jesse stayed true to his orders and our two beam cannons slammed into the first of the ships as they snapped into view. As warp fields were sustained by shield generators, the ship we hit didn't have a chance. It buckled under the thick, angry blue beams of light and cracked in half with a satisfying explosion. I allowed myself a silent cheer; our first kill.

Jesse cracked his knuckles. "And that's how it's done."

"Don't get cocky. Tyler, move us between them and the station. We have to delay them as much as we can."

Typically, its playmates didn't like that ambush much. The _Angel_ and the two fleet escorts moved in between the station and the attackers. Our beam cannons were recharging, but the other two had no such trouble. They got in their first shots as well, hitting raised shields of the second closest ship. They took a nasty bruising from absorbing four beams, but were still hovering at a teetering 30%.

Their turn.

Three of the remaining frigates, only just getting into weapons range, fired off their own beams while the leader was recovering from the assault. They hit the _Exodar_ with something I hadn't seen before. Each frigate fired one beam each; they were thinner looking yellow beams. The scary thing was that they ignored the _Exodar's_ shields. I watched in horror as it was anhiliated in one volley, the disc section snapping into three pieces.

"Fuck..." I breathed, turning to Jesse. "What the hell was that?"

Tyler was frantically hitting keys. "Some kind of particle beam... I'm getting a scan..." a brief pause. "Okay, I see the problem. When I was running through the elite-grade combat sims with Jess, there were a couple fights against the Aparoids. You heard of them?"

"Yes, get to your point!" I urged him.

"Well, they were infamous for being so damn good at killing ships because they used a kind of beam that our shields weren't programmed to normally stopped. Rather than a steady, straight up equal-frequency beam, it fires in stronger pulses that are milliseconds apart. It's like a battering ram, slamming on shields with slower, harder hits rather than one big push."

"Can we modify our shields to compensate?"

Jesse nodded. "Already done, Amy. I scanned the pulse frequency and modulated our shields appropriately. We should be able to sponge their hits."

Just in time, too. The wounded ship we hit earlier fired its own cannon, hitting our shields head on as it slipped into our point-blank weapons range. The ship shuddered... but thankfully I didn't hear any hull breach alarms. Linda sqeaked in nervousness.

"Damage report!"

Tyler swung around to face me. "Shields at eighty six percent strength, a bit got through but it didn't do anything more than bake the paint."

"Alright- Send the shield modifications to Linda so she can inform the _Tiberius _and the station! Quick!"

Linda interupted us. "Amy, I have an ID. They're pirate vessels; the leader in the back is registered as the_ SWS Executor_... the ship that dissapeared with Star Wolf six years ago. I can't get an ID on the others."

My eyes widened. Karen told me about that ship and what happened when her parents were murdered. "Are you serious?" If that was the _Executor... _Wolf's murderer was probably on that ship.

She spoke in between dancing her wingtips on the console, sending the _Tiberius_ what they needed to survive. "Yeah, these are all ships that used to belong to Star Wolf... but why are they using Aparoid tech?"

Jesse stole the attention light back. "Beam cannons are up, Amy. Orders?"

"Finish off that dirt bag in the lead." I growled.

He did exactly that. Our beams lit up again, shattering the shields of the wounded vessel like hammers on a glass panel. The second beam gutted the ship like a starlit javelin, snapping the ships superstructure and leaving it derelict and powerless.

"Nice shot." I smiled.

"Thanks. Oh, and we're just barely outside of point-blank gun range of the other three vessels. Ten seconds until the first one comes in range."

While normally point range guns - namely our pulse lasers, flak guns and missile launchers – were only used for smaller craft like fighters and incoming missiles, they were capable of putting a decent dent in smaller ships, especially when their shields were down. "Bring them to bear on the first ship that comes in range."

Tyler looked worried as he spun back to his console. "They're trying to go right past us. The front two remaining ships are targeting the station."

"Keep pace. Target their engines." We were still a good distance away from the station so we had time to put dents in the remaining ships... the problem was, the same went for them. The Angel kept a bit ahead of the now leading third ship, with one more undamaged behind it and the _Executor_ lagging behind even further. Instinct told me to go after the _Executor_... so I could cut off the head of this beast now... but I had my obligation to the civilians on that station. Not to mention Yale, who was probably helplessly watching out of a viewport as we fought tooth and nail to save his life.

The _Tiberius_, in its own efforts, started dueling with the second ship. Her beam cannons roared and her close range guns started pelting at the pirate frigate. It returned fire, and both ships' shields stood valiantly in protest. To my surprise, the _Executor_ started to yaw off course... maybe to try to go around us?

The bridge shuddered again as our playmates beam cannon recharged and smashed us. Its close range weapons started angrily yelling at us back as well. "65% and dropping, Amy! At this rate we won't have enough power to stop the _Executor_ when this one goes down!" Jesse barked.

"What about our playmates shields?"

"22%. They're gonna buckle any moment now."

"Linda! Status on the evacuation!"

She shook her head in frustration. "It's going slowly, ma'am. Between the media freaking out and the sheer volume of rushed traffic it'll be a wonder if we keep these ships off of them for long enough." I noticed the chaos as well; private freighters and one-man fighters were appearing out of the station and jumping to warp in small bursts.

I didn't need to tell Jesse to finish off the ship we were duking it out with. The moment our beam cannons were up again, they struck again, this time finally shattering our foe's shields. It was enveloped in a satisfying fireball as it detonated. Other than the _Tiberius_' target, that only left the _Executor._..

...which was getting dangerously close to the station. "Tyler! Intercept the Executor and bring us within close weapons range! We can't let them get through!"

The _Tiberius'_ target finally detonated, and it made way for the _Executor_ as well. I checked the fleet status screen on my console and it showed me a frighteningly low 23% left on our last ally's shields. We were hovering at a confident 62%. The _Tiberius_ got into range of the _Executor_ first.

They didn't stand a chance.

Despite what we knew about this class of ship, we should have seen the illegal after-market weaponry coming. Two beam cannons on the side facing the _Tiberius_ lit up and pierced it. The Cornerian ship finally took its last breath as the disc-section was shafted. Its last electronics winked out, and it drifted, derelict, into the stars forever more.

We were outgunned, outsized, and completely alone. No words were shared between us as the Angel drifted into weapons range of the Executor. Our beam cannons opened up, hitting raised shields that shrugged off the blows indifferently before it launched its second surprise.

A wave of four Copperhead class missiles fired out of refitted fighter launch bays, all heading for the station. We had to reprioritize. "Break off the Executor, keep pace with those missiles! Open fire as soon as we're within range!"

As good a pilot as Tyler was, a navy sized ship can only turn so fast. The swivelling thruster nodes on the tips of our wings pushed us towards the missiles but they were still going too fast. I silently urged the Angel to push harder, and we just barely got within range of them several seconds later. Our blaster cannons opened up and tore two of them down. The other two kept going unhindered. I bit my lower lip. "Activate the Gravity Gun. Maybe we can throw them off course!"

Jesse got immediately to work, but stopped. "Amy..."

"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE GIVE ME AN EXCUSE, DEVRIN!"

"It's locked down. We need command codes."

Silence. Those fucking chains that we avoided complaining to the brass about. "_Can't let unexperienced cadets have free access to such a powerful weapon" _they said. Fucking bastards. The codes were issued to the captain of the _Tiberius_ to be given to us in a state of emergency, and now we were up the river without a paddle... because everyone with them was dead.

"No..." Fear made my paws quake in my chair. "Tyler, catch up to them. Do it. I don't care what you have to do. _Do it._"

He shook his head. "This thing's fast Amy, but... I just..."

_I can't do it._

_I failed._

_We failed._

_And now hundreds of civilians, not to mention Henry, were all going to die._

We couldn't catch up in time. The very minimal AA defences on the station made a futile attempt to shoot the tough missiles down, but they carried on unhindered. They slammed into its frail body like cannonballs into a wooden hull, and the station was consumed by a fireball. When the explosion cleared, all that was left was several derelict chunks. The Executor jumped to warp, unhindered by a gravity field that wasn't there. We could have won this. We could have stopped them. All I had to do was ask Captain Tidus for the codes before this even started... and I let something so stupid get in the way...

"Amy..." Jess tried to comfort me. "This ain't your fault. We did our best. It was five versus three. Henry would be nothing but proud."

"If he was alive..." I breathed. The nagging instinct of duty annoyed the sickness that was my guilt into action. "Linda... are you picking up any survivors?"

"...Heat signatures dead, ma'am. We're alone."

A tear slipped down my cheek. "Set a course for Corneria... if anyone needs me, I'll be in the ready room." I had a report to write.


	6. Setting the Stage

_So I was looking at CoV, which I had recently "revived" thinking, yay! I liked this idea! Maybe now I can let it grow into something more than my bastard child._

_Negliglence is a habit not easily broken._

_I'm letting it die again, because now I remember why. It has nowhere to go. The ending is obvious. The romance possibilities are obvious; and it refuses to develop into a story worth reading... at least in my incapable hands. It would be come a re-run of that shitstorm SF: Revolution._

_So, here I am again with the sixth installment of Before the Dawn. Enjoy. Sorry for the long hiatus, anyone who says writers block does not exist, go die. It's just a term for a temporary lack of inspiration._

_Thank god it was indeed temporary, even though I'm atheist. Never hurts to be sure, right?_

_"Nothing is more difficult, and therefore more precious, than the ability to decide."_

**Chapter VI: Setting the Stage**

_=-=-=-=_

_Cornerian Navy University, Corneria City_

_Dormitory Building C, Floor 3, Room 36._

_September 13th, 40 PLW_

_2:13 PM_

_=-=-=-=_

I saw the news. We all did. Marcus, who was on leave, watched it with me when our one on one euchure game was rudely interupted by our holoscreen switching channels from the comedy network to a breaking news report. The military couldn't even come close to covering up what happened; a whole bunch of media reporters were on the scene and every interplanetary news channel had front row seats to the chaos. Pirates, armed with Aparoid weaponry, wiped out the diplomatic mission to Kew. The only ship that came back was the _Angel_, which was under the leadership of my best friend Amy. When the reporter mentioned that she was unavailable for comment, a pit of worry exploded in my stomach. I borrowed Dad's car and went straight to the University.

I was there in the blink of an eye. I knocked on her door once curtly, but recieved no reply. I pressed my ear against the door, again greeted with nothing but silence. I tried the door; it was unlocked.

I wasn't greeted by the same silence that answered my knock. Instead, I found a ruffled, crying Amy in jeans and a pink T-shirt rather than the uniform she usually wore like a second skin. She was completely oblivious to my entrance. My worries were answered. Her bags were packed.

I stood at the doorway to her little bedroom from the kitchenette. "Amy..."

Startled from her misery, she looked up. Tears matted down the fur on her face. "Marie?"

She looked in tatters. The feathers on her wings were ruffled, the belongings she couldn't stuff in her bags were tossed about... she took the failure hard. "Saw the news, huh?" she croaked through her tear-clogged throat, bowing her head in shame.

I took a seat beside her, and decided to try my hand at comforting her. "Bill was on the news. He said he looked over the action records from your ship and he's gonna give you a medal."

"Just what I need..." she didn't look up at me. "A reminder of what happened that I'm obliged to carry around and show off."

"Amy... you were up against impossible odds. You have nothing to be ashamed about. Henry would have been pr-"

"Well he _can't_ be proud, 'cause he's DEAD!" she shrieked at me. Fresh tears started pouring down again, and she just stared at me with rage filled eyes, like she was blaming every tear on me. All I could give her back was the sweetest, most sympathy filled look I could muster. Her rage melted back into sorrow and self-blame. "I'm sorry... you didn't deserve that."

"Amy, it's okay... do you wanna come stay over at my place in the mean time? Do you know what you're gonna do now?"

She stayed silent for a few moments, shifting her gaze to the floor again. "... I haven't thought about it yet. I might go home, back to the family business..." She paused before answering my other question. "Would your parents be okay with me staying over for a bit?"

I smiled. "Sure, we already have company, why not a bit more?"

Appreciative of the change in subject, a smile was finally coaxed out of my friend. "Who's the other visitor?"

"Karen O'Donnell. Remember her? Apparently Marcus' squad was supposed to pull her in for questioning and she's staying at our place in "his custody" until she can get transport back home again."

Her eyes lit up like a furnace. looked like the two knew eachother... and not in a friendly way. "... Yeah, I remember her just fine. Can you help me with my bags?"

"Of course!"

The ride was less depressing than I expected; the beautiful, warm autumn weather helped. I knew she always had a lot of fun whenever she was over, and I was glad to be able to provide a good distraction from all of the stress she was under. We chatted it up, she managed to tell me more about the Angel without breaking into a fit of tears... although she did space out every time she mentioned the name. She explained why, and I didn't blame her. Maybe if Aryn did something that crazy and romantic for me I might have stopped leading him on so shamelessly. I never told him I said that, though. Our little secret.

It wasn't long until we were home, greeted by the neat wood paneling of the McCloud Manor that seemed to shine under the sun. It was your typical beachfront property; roadside half contrasted against the evergreen forests, and the far half dominating the top of a hill that rolled down to the smooth sandy beaches below. Marcus and Karen were waiting for us on the front porch, but they appeared to be in a heated arguement and didn't really notice me pull in. When I saw Marcus holding that monster handgun of hers and doing what appeared to be scolding her, I saw why. Amy seemed to darken a bit when she spotted the wolf.

"You two have a history?" I asked as I turned the engine off.

"Yeah... she worked for my dad a lot. I wouldn't call us enemies but she..."

I understood what she meant. "Creeps you out."

"Yeah... She's a monster. Enjoys killing way too much." She opened the door, tossed out the bag that was on her lap, then reached around into the back seat to get her second. I grabbed the third and opened my own door. Marcus and Karen continued their heated argument, completely oblivious to our arrival.

"It doesn't matter if you _think_ you can handle this thing; which you _can't_ any better than a _real _gun. There just isn't any reason to be carrying this thing around. It all rounds down to figuring out a purpose for such a monstrous sidearm; this is the kind of thing you need a sidearm to back up!"

Karen grinned. "Fine, you wanna know why? Because fear is a tool in battle just like any other weapon. This weapon is a factory of fear." she snatched it away from him. "...because when they see the open end of this barrel..." She tapped it with a sharp claw, her expression smoothing into some obscene mixture of seduction and bloodlust. "... they're left with nothing but pure, unadulterated horror. Who best to use such a weapon than someone an entire planet's worth of an underground crime network has learned to fear?"

Marcus stopped. He appeared to submit. "...I still think it's overkill."

"Suit yourself." she scoffed. Both finally realized we were approaching. Both turning to face us, Marcus greeted us with a warm smile. Karen noticed the winged cat with me and pulled into a toothy grin. "Hello there, kitten."

"Fuck off, Karen." she snapped.

The wolf rolled her eyes as we boarded the porch. "Relax, I was kidding. It's been a while. How's the navy thing going for 'ya?" Marcus got the door for me.

Amy dropped her bags and surged towards her. "Why you little...!"

"WAIT!" Marcus jumped in her way. "She didn't mean that. She hasn't seen the news."

Amy froze, seeing Karen's genuinely surprised look. She shrugged it off and picked up her bags again. I let her go first and followed her in.

"Fuck I hate her..." she hissed under her breath the moment we were inside and safely out of earshot. "I bet she _has_ heard what happened. She's such a bitch like that."

I took the lead and started up the stairs. "Marcus can see through a lie as though the person's eyes are squeaky clean windows into their soul. Besides, she actually smiled when I told her who I was going off to pick up."

I led her into my room. "I'm sure she was fucking _delighted._" She was more than familiar with the cute pink that coated the walls, and tossed her bags wherever on the floor as was standard when she came around. She knew we had an air mattress she could use. She took a deep breath. "Okay. Now what?"

I was about to answer her question, when my cell rang. I gave Amy the index-finger telling her to hold on a moment, and I flipped it out and hit the answer button out of reflex, butting out of my room and leaning over the balcony that looked down into the family room.

"Hello?"

_"Marie?" _It was Aryn.

"Hey, Aryn! What's goin' on?"

_"My parents are missing."_ His voice was riddled with dark alarm. After a pause, he continued. _"Dad... he left a note for me saying he was going to be spending some time in the custody of something called CASOC regarding his research, and I don't even know where Mom is."_

"Have you seen the news?"

_"Yeah. And do you know what Dad is famous for in the world of military research?"_

"Uh, the G-Diffuser?"

"_Although that's his crowning achievement, he has his hands in everything involving gravitic maneuvering and weapons technology."_

A long pause. "...Do you think that's linked to the attack somehow?"

_"I don't know, but I have a bad feeling it is. He also left me a phone number he said to call in case something happened."_

"What is it?"

_"5-25-216-2412. Ever heard it before?_"

I never used that number, but it rang a bell for some reason. The five stood for Aquas... who did I know that was on Aquas? Then, looking down at the home phone hanging on the wall at the far end of the family room, it hit me. "That's Slippy Toad's number, I think."

_"This gets more mysterious by the minute..."_

"Hey, we have Amy and Karen over already, would it make you feel better if you stayed here tonight? Maybe we can make sense of everything that's going on, or something." Not that I thought we could do anything about it, I didn't add.

_"I...appreciate it, Marie. I'll be over in ten or twenty."_

"Bring a sleeping bag, you're on the couch. Amy has dibs on the air mattress."

_"Check. See ya.." _He hung up. I could understand his situation, but his voice still made me uncomfortable. It was like he knew something that he didn't want to admit because it was incriminating, or something. I don't know.

I pocketed my cell and rushed downstairs, looking for Mom or Dad to tell them that we were having yet another guest for the night. I surged past Karen and Marcus who were now in the living room arguing about something else, most likely guns or something. The kitchen was devoid of life, so I walked through it to the dining room and hung a left to the study, where I found Dad fiddling with something in his lap. He was turned away from me in his office chair so I couldn't see what it was.

"Dad?"

Whatever he was holding, he put it down and spun to face me. "Hey, honey. You need something?"

"Uhm, I invited Aryn over. Apparently his parents are missing so... I thought maybe he didn't want to be alone."

Aryn was around so often that permission was never really a problem anymore. His interest was somewhere else. "Missing?"

"Yeah, apparently his dad left a note saying he was taken into custody by some group called "kasock" or something. Something to do with his research. I don't know about his mom, though."

He seemed to plunge deep into thought. Did he know something I didn't? "Huh. Anyway, rather than make dinner for all of these people lets just have pizza delivered. Can you call Joe's or something and order a couple large's?"

I was only half disgruntled by the change of subject. My growling stomach was that other half. "Alright." Before wondering away, I noticed what he was fiddling with on his desk.

A small model Arwing.

_=-=-=-=_

_Meanwhile.... Katina Orbit_

_CNJ Indignation, Chief Officers Barracks_

_Chief Engineer's Quarters_

_=-=-=-=_

Lt. Commander Fay Spaniel is the name; chief engineer of the biggest, scariest thing in space. A fun job with good money, even for someone as old as me. The duty came without any hitches at all until yesterday, when myself and Admiral Drake Tuttle were cut off duty and temporarly replaced pending an investigation regarding the only thing that linked us. We were both former members of the Scarlet Hand.

Drake saw it as a reason to panic. I saw it as time to relax. I lounged about in my awesomely large and lavish quarters (three cheers for arrogant Venomian design!) with nothing on my mind other than how long it was going to take to get the shit sorted out. One thing did bug me though; why would Vince appear out of nowhere after having vanished for twenty years? I figured he would have like, got a life or something after we took down the Doc once and for all. Nope, he was out and about and apparently up to no good.

I saw them taking me off the roster, because I've only been in the military for a couple of years as an engineer; but cutting Drake was a huge surprise. He was an _Admiral_ in command of the Indignation and the General council still confined him to quarters in a snap. He was swearing up a storm, a whole bunch of lines like "_you ungrateful bastards!" _and _"what the hell does it take to earn your trust?!"_. Can't say I blame him, I guess. When a security team came down to the main reactor engineering bay to collect me, I just yawned and told them to keep their paws off. One didn't. He's now laying in sick bay with a broken arm.

My boredom was interupted by a beeping from my comms console. I lazily got out of bed and sat at my desk, bringing up the communique on the monitor.

_INCOMING CALL: Mina Sipher_.

Well, that was a surprise. Mina Sipher was the undercover name that Janice Greyson used for a long time before hooking back up with Skye. It might have been documented with CASOC intelligence, but most likely not. Only about five or six people not in on the secret ever knew that first name, let alone the last, and none of them were intel spooks. Janice was giving me a call. I picked it up without hesitating.

"How's it going, babe?_"_

_"No time for small talk, Fay. Is your console secure?"_

"Not yet." I scrambled into one of the password protected folders on my desktop and pulled up a program I whipped up a while ago to keep my private transmissions private. "Okay, line's secure. What's the scoop, Jenny?"

_"I don't have long until I'm traced, so I have to be quick. A couple of weeks ago, a secure research facility on Titania was raided by old members of Starwolf. We know now that Vince was the one who killed Wolf and is now using his ships to fuck things up. Apparently he got his hands on an unhealthy dose of red matter during the raid, you probably know what it can do._"

"Boom. In the right hands, anyway. I've never been able to figure out how it works. Wasn't Skye working on that?"

_"Yeah. Him and Toad are the only ones who know how to make a bomb with the stuff, so CASOC grabbed him because they think he might be in league with Vince. I know he isn't, but we can't prove it. In the meantime, I'm trying to track Vince... but..."_

"Can't find him?"

_"Its not that. I just don't think I can find him before something bad happens. For all we know, he already has the specs. There was one other person who knew how to make a Gravity Bomb... and god knows Vince probably has the means to access his old archives."_

"You think he might have uncovered Andross' research, or something?"

_"Its a possibility. Until we know for sure, a hell of a lot of people are in danger. I don't know Vince's motives, and I don't know what kind of resources he has... but I do know he has to be stopped. I can't do it alone, though. We need someone who knows how G-bomb's work and how we can counter them. We need pilots. We need our team."_

"Janice, I know you want to get into the action,,, but shit, girl. We're too old for this. Let's let the new kids play ball this time."

_"It ain't that simple... besides, I have access to just the gear we need to erase that age problem altogether. Skye has secure access to the new TECANIS-II suits from Toad's station. If we can break him out, we can get ourselves a set and maybe stop Vince in time before he does something drastic."_

It was crazy. Stupid, even; but it sounded like a hell of a lot of fun. Necessary too, of course! I would be lying if I said I didn't want to get out on the field again. I missed the angry roaring of an assault rifle in my paws, the adrenaline rushes... and I saw those suits before. Skye showed me a demo video of them in use. I was giddy with excitement. "You got me signed on, Jenny, but I don't know about Drake. Besides, were confined to quarters here... and even if we weren't, we don't have a way to get off the Indignation.

_"Your and Drake's Wolfens are still at Lupinhold. I'll program their autopilot and link an ETA time frame to your console. How soon can you be ready to leave?"_

"How long will it take for our fighters to get here? We're in orbit over Zoness."

_"Two hours, tops. Can you be ready?"_

"You got it, sugar."

I closed the communication and dialed in Drake's persa-comm immediately. He was in his quarters too, so it didn't take him long to answer.

_"Admiral Tuttle, here."_

"Drake, it's me."

_"Look, for the last time, I don't want to play chess..."_

"No, it's not that. This is serious. Janice just gave me a call, she's going to bust us out. It's a long story, but we have two hours until our Wolfen's are going to be here and-"

_"Woah woah woah. I'm trying to earn the brass; trust, how the hell is this going to help?"_

"We don't have time to earn their trust, anymore. Janice wants to bring the team together and bust out Skye so we can hunt down Vince and stop him from using the red matter he has."

_"This is crazy, Fay. Yes, I know about the TECANIS-II armor but this can't be the best way to approach this. If we can prove Skye innocent..."_

"No. As long as Vince has the red matter they won't let him go, and you know it. We both know that he wouldn't betray a secret that dangerous to anyone, and Vince knows that. He probably only stole the matter because he_ already has_ the blueprints. Did you hear about what happened at Kew?"

_"Who didn't?"_

"Why would he do that? I can'r think of _one_ good reason."

_"Cutting diplomatic relations between the two worlds must have been an attempt to sever contact. The diplomats were sent there to...."_

"Huh?"

_"Fuck. I just brought up the file, the mission was to discuss the terms of the joint defence agreement. It was brought up as a bargaining chip that would have our ships defending the planet like it was any member of the LDC. He was trying to keep our ships away..."_

"So that he would have a clear shot."

_"We need to bring this up to the General Council. Look, Fay, I know you want to do this... and you go right on ahead. I need to do my part. I need to get to Corneria and make sure they send ships to Kew to defend it, treaty or not."_

We paused. "I understand. Good luck, old man."

_"Hey, you're older than me!"_

I giggled. "By a month, and I still look thirty, thank you very much."

_"Look, just be careful, alright? Just ask Victoria to help you get access to the Hangar bay. At least _she_ still trusts us."_

Victoria was probably our best friend on that ship. Skye helped her get her body back after Andross died as he promised, but the long time her body spent in stasis without a conciousness was too damaging. She "died" only three years after, but Slippy Toad, who she was working for at the time, was able to transfer her consciousness in her old AI form into the hardwires of his station. From there, him and Skye built a new body for her as likelife as they could. Now, she was serving on the Indignation again, constantly swapping between dancing around the hardwires of the Juggernaught and walking around with her artifical body. The geeks did a good job on it; it looks real even to my trained eye. It even simulates breathing and body heat. She keeps telling me she hates it, but not only is she immortal, she permanently looks like a sexy twenty-five year old. She's sixty five and has the charm of a cover girl! What's not to like?

"Alright, I'll do that. In case I don't see you for a while... Good luck."

_"You too," _his image winked off.

Girly observations aside, Victoria was a huge help and a great friend. I knew I could count on her to make the job of escaping my quarters nice and easy.

"Victoria."

Poof, the holographic pink tigress was standing beside the door to my room. "**You called**?"

I swung around. "Feel like a little rebellion?"

"**I knew you wouldn't be able to sit around for more than a few hours. What did you have in mind?"**__she yawned at me. For her, it was only an expression. She obviously didn't have to yawn for real.

"Don't bullshit me, babe. I know you heard my conversation with Drake just now."

**"No, actually, I was enjoying dinner in the holodeck."** She doesn't eat for real, but as another perk of Skye and Slippy's programming, she was able to percieve other holographic objects as if she and it were both real. This counted for things like food, and a warm bath. Again, she didn't need them, but at least she could sitll experience them.

"Well, long story short, my Wolfen is going to be here in a couple of hours and I'm going to go hook up with Janice to bust out Skye and go save the world."

**"Okay."** she yawned again. **"So I'll need to put a loophole in the door guard shifts, make sure the hangar in question has its guard swapped out or otherwise subdued, then secure passage there probably with holographic disguise emission, all without alerting the geeks on the bridge?" **Straight to business, as always. Such a sweetheart.

"Sounds about right...?"

**"And here I thought you were going to ask me to do something hard."**

"Thanks, Vicky."

**"No problem. I saw the news; make sure you give Vince a good kick in the sack for me when you find him, okay?"**

"Will do."

=-=-=-=

_CASOC Headquarters, Corneria City_

_3:32 PM, Skye Greyson's Cell_

=-=-=-=

The cell they were keeping me in as decent enough, considering they weren't actually holding me for any real crime and I was probably their only insurance against an apocalyptic disaster should Vincent find other means to obtain the G-Bomb specs. It was carpeted, I had a sleepable bed that was made properly, a holovision screen and a toilet that was actually in a stall. I could almost call it a two star hotel room.

I had only been in there for a day. No one had come to ask me questions, just to bring me thankfully decent food three times a day and once that morning to give me a newspaper. When I read about the assault on Kew, it became far too obvious that my time was being wasted there. Vince wouldn't have waited twenty years to put his plans into motion until he was quite ready.

With the Executor, he had Star Wolf's old command codes for Andross' computers. We never _did_ destroy that asteroid base where the sour ape had developed the telekenetic amplifier. There were probably a set of gravity bomb specs there. If all of my suspcions were correct, I knew I would have to get out of that cell immediately to prevent a catastrophe.

It was plenty likely that Kew was already doomed.

While I had been quite cooperative with the ladies and gentlemen of CASOC, I did, of course, lie about my wife. Janice was not out looking for Vince, she was out collecting our teammates for a surprise assault on the very base I was captive in to accomplish two things: One, equip ourselves with a set of TE-CANIS II armor, and two, to get me out of that damned cage. While I did have access to a set of the armor suits at Toad's research station over Aquas, those were reserved for someone special. Besides, if we were to get the ones stored at CASOC, Dagger team would be completely useless and safely out of our way while we hunted down Vince and his allies.

The timing was the most important part. If the Hand got there and went for the suits and Dagger beat them there, we would be quite screwed. My team would very, very likely be killed on the spot. I had faith in them, though. Let's be serious now: would they actually suspect a raid on the heart of CASOC? Perhaps, because I am here and they may expect a breakout attempt. For all I knew, they might have already been prepared for us.

One thing was certain though, they were certainly _not_ prepared for me, who the whole time was wearing a self-only cloaked set of the armor under my clothes. They had no idea that I was completely ready to tear through that base without a care in the world. Should worse come to worst and Dagger DID beat the Hand to the suits, I would be ready to surprise assault them and facilitate our escape. Toad _should_ have an extra set around, anyway. The Cornerians were always far too trusting... other than Gage, who smartly suggested that I be searched when I arrived. General Grey should have listened to him, who simply shook his head and allowed me through without such _formality_.

What, did you really think I would just let them lock me up without a plan ready when they suspect me of conspiracy to commit genocide? If so, please direct yourself off the nearest cliff.

My musing was interupted by an arrival. I listened hard to the footsteps; in even time, naturally quieted steps, yet with the quick tempo of a purpose. I would have guessed one of Mr Birse's teammates, but they appeared to be more relaxed and would have been slower. No, I was being visted by the boss man.

When I looked to confirm my guess, I was delighted to see that it was spot on. He seemed a bit off-put by my uncharacteristic smile. "Something funny?" he said.

"Just musing about how easily identifiable you are through your footsteps." I said.

He looked down to his feet, bewildered, and then back up to me. "You're saying you could tell who I was just based on my footsteps?"

"You can tell a lot about a person from their footsteps. Much of it is situational awareness, obvious things like tempo gaging purpose and level of alert. More complex is timing between steps and the softness, marking things such as strict training, or perhaps a slight limp in the left leg from a bullet wound recieved to the knee several years ago..." The fox looked over to one of the guards stationed in the jail block. The one I was referring to was leaning on one leg with his paw resting on his belt as though to try to hide the injury as a simply relaxed pose.

"You seem to be pretty knowledgeable for someone who lost all of their memories of their time as a Venomian agent." he probed me. Understandable, I suppose.

"I make it a point to restudy. It's not like I didn't have access to an appropriate teacher." I was of course referring to Janice. "Now, there must be some _reason_ you came down here. Like I said, your footsteps gave you away." He obviously wasn't convinced. I didn't really give a damn, to tell the truth. It was probably only going to be a couple of days before I was going to have to fight him.

"Yeah. You have a visitor. Fox McCloud is here, he wants to talk to you."

Not a surprise. I knew he would be around yesterday to sort out what's what, especially because the first thing Aryn would do would be to call his place, or Marie particularly. I stood. "Very well."

Gage beckoned over the limping cell guard who rushed over immediately pulling a set of old fashioned metal keys out of his pocket. In moments, my cell was open and the fox was leading me out of the jail block and through a series of cooridors throughout the basement of the facility. I doubted he would bring me to surface level, they probably had Fox waiting in a visitation room.

I was right, again. Gage opened a door, beckoning me inside. The only people there were myself, the half-greyed Fox McCloud with his paws folded into eachother sitting at the opposite side of a simple card table, and the security watching from the other side of the one-way mirror. I wasn't going to be able to say much. I took a seat. Both of us waited for the door to close behind us, even though we knew we were being watched through the mirror.

He started. "I thought it was kind of odd that CASOC would randomly throw you behind bars. I only know what's what based on what I heard in the news. I figured I wouldn't get a better side of the story from anyone but you so..."

I waited for him to finish.

"Just what the hell is going on, Skye?"

I got right down to business. "You remember Vince, hmm?"

"Crazy bat dude from the old Scarlet Hand. No one heard anything of him since the end of the Venomian insurgence twenty years ago. He's involved?"

"Indeed. It appears that, behind everyone's backs, he slaughtered the Star Wolf empire, including Wolf, and stole all of his ships. He left no evidence of his involvement behind other than the memories of Wolf's daughter Karen who has searched for him relentlessly."

"Why do you think he did it?"

"No one knows why, all we can speculate is what he's going to do. Recently he raided a Cornerian research base and got his hand on some very... interesting equipment. I believe he plans on completely destroying the planet Kew."

A few moments of silence. "... And you know this how?"

"The diplomatic convoy that young Lombardi was escorting was going to to the Tygrid Station a short jump away from Kew to discuss the joint defence agreement that would keep Cornerian ships in Kewian orbit to defend it as though it were any other member of the LDC. With that meeting interupted, he now has clear reign to do whatever he likes to the planet. Their military is completely pathetic. His options include assimilating the entire population, or obliterating the planet entirely."

"This seems a little far fetched. It just looks to me like he's trying to keep the military out of the skies so he can develop a criminal empire."

"Tell me, do you know what red matter is?"

"Do I ever. For the longest time I thought a red matter bomb was the culprit behind my dad's death."

"Vince has stolen enough of it to swallow the entire Lylat System. That is why I am being held, CASOC believes I may be planning to give him the specs for the bomb."

An annoying loudspeaker interupted us. _"That's enough classified information for one session, you two."_

I ignored the voice. "He already has them."

"What? How do you know?"

"Because he didn't even ask me for them. Don't you think that's rather odd how he wouldn't think to simply _ask _his former teammate, a fellow Venomian agent? Would I have said no?"

_"Would_ you have said no?"

"Of course, but that's not stopping him from killing me and taking them off of my laptop."

Wide eyes and silence told me he was stunned by the simplicity of the idea. Two guards came bursting through the door behind me. I stood, submitting to their will. "Without Cornerian protection, Kew doesn't stand a chance." I said calmly as the guards gripped my arms. I was sure he understood what I meant. He just watched, bewildered, as I was dragged out of the room.

_=-=-=-=_

_Route to the McCloud Residence_

_Five Minuites Later_

_=-=-=-=_

Skye's explaination was getting my blood pumping like nothing had for a _long_ time. If I understood him correct, he wanted Starfox to go to Kew to protect it from Vince in the Cornerian Military's place. Counting our options, that looked like the only real choice if reinforcements weren't going to be sent. Normally, when I got called for some job or another by die-hard fans (calls which stopped completely about five years ago) I would just tell them we were too old for work. We were done. I could make an exception for this.

I wasn't about to go alone, though. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed the insanely long distance number of Falco Lombardi. Putting my attention forward again, I waited through the dial tones for the giveaway click.

"_Lombardi PMC, what problem can I solve for you today?"  
_

"Falco, its Fox."

_"Hey Foxy, what's going on? Is Amy alright?"_

"She didn't call you? Huh. Well, she's at our place in the mean time, I think she's resigning."

_"Heh. I didn't think she would sit still with the Navy for long, although it better not be because she's going all bat shit about what happened at the Tygrid station.... I didn't raise her to be a quitter. Tell her to give me a call, alright?"_

"Will do, but that's not why I called."

_"Huh?"_

"I just had a chat with Skye who's locked up at CASOC headquarters. Apparently we can pretty much expect a full on attack by the guys who crashed the political meet."

_"Just who IS this joker?"_

"They were old Star Wolf ships, apparently Vince Xavier is commanding them. Recognize the name?"

_"So THAT'S who Karen was going after.." _he muttered. _"Okay. Yeah,he was part of the Hand. He was with us when we put the hammer down on Venom. You saying he's the one stirring up the shit?"_

"It seems that way. He has access to Aparoid weapons, and apparently has a fully functioning gravity bomb. If he plans to use that thing on Kew..."

_"God damnit! A G-Bomb?! He better not! That's the last thing anyone needs. What the hell could he possibly hope to accomplish with-"_

"Shut up for a second."

Silence.

"If the Cornerian politicians aren't going to send reinforcements to hold Kew, which I think was Vince's purpose in stopping that diplo meet, someone's going to have to keep an eye on the planet and stop the attack. I think you know who I mean."

_"Man, you have me. Those old pirate buckets don't stand a chance against us. Am I the first ya' called?"_

"Yeah. Not sure if I can talk Krystal into it, but we can probably count her in. Can Katt go?"

_"She wouldn't let me out of her sight for five minutes when I'm even trying to cook something, let alone flying a mission."_

I chuckled. "Good to hear. Four is good, but... anyone else we can count in?"

_"Well, there's Slippy..."_

"No."

_"Huh? Usually this situation is flipped around... aren't I supposed to be the one saying 'no'?"_

"If we screw this up, he's the one that's going to be supplying Marie with the next generation of Arwings."

A long, cold silence.

_"You're kidding right? Don't talk like that, this'll be a cake walk."_

"We're gettin' old, Falco. There's always a chance, and we have to take precautions. If Vince sets off a gravity bomb before we can stop it..."

_"If he uses too high a dosage not even the G-Diffusers will keep our tails outta the fire."_

"I'm starting to worry he may be counting on that. What if it's all a trap? This could all just be bait to lure us there."

_"I think you're lookin' into it too hard. Maybe he only waited this long to make sure we were out of the way. You think he expects a bunch of old fossils like us to go charging into the shit after this long?"_

I sighed. "Whatever. I'll try not to worry."

_"Good man. So, fifth, maybe sixth pilot. Anyone in mind?"_

"No idea where Janice is, Skye obviously can't. Fay is bottled up on the _Indignation _last I heard. Bill is the god damn general...." I sighed. "Oh, how times have changed..."

_"So it's us four, then."_

"Yeah."

_"A'ight, I'm going to send Jordan over to Corneria to your place to keep an eye on Amy and I'll close up shop for the week. I don't want him here for this... He's gotten good, fast, but I don't want to risk it."_

"Chip off the ol' block, huh?"

_"More than that. He's going to be better than me."_

"I know you wouldn't say that unless you really meant it."

_"I don't know what it is, or who he got it from, but he analyzes every move so damn fast I still can't believe it when I watch him do it. Every time he walks into a bad situation he flows into this insanely creative and flawless countermeasure. He walks into a trap and gets out without a scratch. Starting to scare me a bit, to be honest. If Beltino was still alive, I'd ask him just what the hell he put in Jord's DNA."_

"Slippy probably has records of all that stuff locked away somewhere."

_"Meh, now's not the time to worry about it. Whenever you're ready, just come straight to my place, I have a shop here so we can get our guns tuned and everything."_

"Falco? Prepared? What is this?"

_"Shuddup, you. I'll see you then."_

"Yeah, I should be around... tomorrow, maybe."

_"Just make sure you don't miss the party."_

"Not on your life." I said, just breaking out of the furthest edges of Corneria City into the thick, evergreen forests that would flank me all the way back to my place out by the waterfront. It was mere seconds before my cell phone was ringing. I brought it back to my ear.

_"Fox! Damn, there you are."_ It was one of my best friends, Gage Birse.

"Heya, Gage. What's happenin'?"

_"Fox, you know exactly what's happening. You're not seriously going to Kew, are you?" _Looked like he got the gist of what Skye said, too.

"You know, you didn't have to eavesdrop. You could have just asked afterwards..."

_"It's not like that. Its not you I don't trust, it's Skye. I had to be there to make sure he didn't tell you anything we don't know yet."_

"Well I _do_ trust him, and I'm taking his word for it. If Corneria isn't going to move to save Kew, who will?"

_"Don't get me wrong, Fox. If there's anyone in Lylat fit for the job its you, but you know me. I smell a trap."_ Usually that would be enough to scare me out of just about anyhing. Gage's intuition was eerily accurate. He would always tell me its what kept him alive._"Think about it. They're bringing the one weapon that not even you can dodge, with the knowledge no one else is there to protect the planet. It's bait, Fox, and you're biting."_

"And what do you suggest? Just sit there and wait for billions to be slaughtered? It's not just bait. I'm not biting for an apetite, I'm biting because I have a responsibility to the innocent. You should know that better than anyone."

_"Fox, if this is a trap for you, which I'm_ damn_ sure it is, they won't even shoot until you get there. Think about it; he stole the red matter and the aparoid tech from us. Why would he go through all of that trouble to blow away that planet? If he can do it with the gravity bomb alone, why steal the aparoid cell and infect his ships? Why even bother keeping the Cornerians out of the way when he could just deploy and forget? It's the only thing that makes sense."_

"Gage."

_"Fox, don't do it. Just wait for General Grey to convince the senate to allow him to deploy a fleet. He's called an emergency senate meeting, it can be as quick as a few days-"_

"I'm going. That's final."

A long silence, then a sigh from the other end. _"This might sound ironic coming from me, McCloud, but be careful. You watch your ass, got it?"_

"I always do."

_"I wish I believed that."_

_Click._

The moment he hung up, I was rolling down my driveway. The patio was barren, everyone would have been inside having pizza. I killed the engine and went straight inside. Everyone was at the dining table chowing down; Krystal, Marie, Marcus, Amy, Karen and Aryn. I didn't bother taking off my jacket.

"Hey, dad! Where'd you go?"

"Just had to go talk to someone. Krystal..."

She looked up to me. "Yes, dear?"

"Can we talk a moment in private?"

I couldn't blame her when her cheer immediately faded into worry. She set down her slice without a moments hesitation and simply nodded, abandoning her place at the table and following me into the study. I locked the door behind us.

"Scramble our psyche waves, I don't want Marcus eavesdropping."

I could feel that giveaway, quiet static noise in the back of my head that told me she obeyed. "What's going on?" she asked as the bolt slid into place.

"... I just spoke to Skye, who's been locked up at CASOC headquarters because they think he's involved in the mess with Kew."

A long pause. I continued. "He seems to think that the attack was an attempt to make sure Cornerian forces would be out of the way so he could destroy the entire planet with a gravity bomb."

She honestly gasped. Maybe we _were_ too old for this. "That'ts terrible!"

"It gets worse. There has to be some reason he did this now. Gage seems to think it's bait for me to come out, but... if Skye is right, and there is nothing in between Vince and over a billion casualties... Starfox has to go. I already talked to Falco. With him and Katt, we have three pilots."

"Fox, you can't be serious... we left that life behind _decades_ ago. You promised me you were done fighting."

I finally turned away from the door to face her. She was afraid of what I suggested. Our quiet lives out on the beachfront felt like immortality after being in the war... and accepting this was like giving it all up. "When so many lives are at stake, some promises have to be broken. We might be the only ones who can guarentee the safety of those people... and this is all just speculation. This might just be all one big wild goose chase and we could be flying out there for a week without so much as a peep. I just want to be there to be sure. Can I count on you to be with us?"

A pause. "You said that Gage thought it was bait for you."

"That's entirely possible... but this won't be the first trap we've sprung kicking. I still think it's an acceptable risk."

She sighed. "Fox... If you really, _deeply_ think this is necessary, I'll go... because I have to. If only to know I can be up there watching your back."

"Thank you." I closed in and kissed her. Not the family pecks we were used to, but the full on embrace of two lovers like we used to share all of the time back in the days where we glided about Lylat aboard the Great Fox, righting the galaxy's wrongs.

I broke the kiss. "We leave tomorrow morning. Want to get some practice in on the sims?"

She nodded.

_=-=-=-=_

_4:00 PM Lylat Standard Time_

_CNJ Indignation, Hangar Twelve_

_=-=-=-=_

_"Right on time."_ I whispered to myself. The moment I walked through the doors of one of the _Indignation_'s many immense hangar bays, I watched my personal Wolfen II glide through the magcon field, erupting the drab melancholy of the chamber. Mechanics and guards suddenly scattered out of the fighter's way as it approached me like a loyal steed answering the tune of my whistle.

One of the marines ran into my way. "Lieutenant Spaniel! By order of the Supreme General you are supposed to be locked up in your quarters; I can't let you leave." He lifted his assault rifle and pointed it at me.

"If you're going to point a rifle at me, soldier, you better be ready to pull the trigger." The Venomian professional in me took over as I continued striding towards him. I saw it in his eyes; he was cowering. This was a greenhorn. He probably never killed someone in his life. The millisecond I came in arms reach, my paw snapped out and ripped the rifle out of his own. Sliding my claws into a sturdy position on the grip, I swung it. The weapon collided with his temple and the helmeted guard dropped like a sack of potatoes, leaving me to my prize. The Wolfen hovered low over the ground, it's canopy opening to greet me.

I hopped into the pilot's couch without a hitch, and the canopy sealed as I took autopilot offline, secured my harness, and glided the ship back out into vaccuum. As I flew out into the cold of space, my communication's panel erupted in alarm. Forced hail from the _Indignation._ The face of the Supreme General William Grey himself appeared on my control panel.

"Lieutenant, turn that fighter around this instant. We won't hesitate to shoot you down if you-" I cut it off. The guns didn't come online. I silently thanked Victoria.

However, not even she could stop the spectacular cloud of fighters that scrambled to pursue me. I brought up my navigational panel only to recieve an error; there was an artificial gravity well emitting from the Indignation preventing me from jumping to warp.

I had completely forgotten about the new G-Gun that was recently added into the Indignation's defence. Looked like I wasn't getting out of that one without a fight.

I opened a wide band communication channel. "This is Lieutenant Commander Fay Spaniel of the Scarlet Hand. The cat is out of the bag. If that G-Gun doesn't come down in the next ten seconds, I'm going to blow it, the bridge, every hangar bay I see fit, and every single one of your fighters. Don't fuck with me. You know what I'm capable of."

A bluff, of course. I'm no McCloud. I could definitely kill the G-Gun, though.

They didn't take the bait. I didn't recieve a reply. Instead, a stream of lasers from the first wave of fighters chased me away from the juggernaught. I slipped into a U-Turn and faced them head on. Their shots passed me harmlessly. I opened up with guns, not aiming to kill them as much as just scatter them. One fighter was vapourized, the rest of it's wing scattered in fear of the Wolfen II's multi-lock, which I hadn't bothered bringing online. Yet.

It kind of hurt shooting down Cornerians, but not really. It wasn't exactly a new concept, rather one I had simply put away on the top shelf for the last couple of decades. If they were going to shoot at me, then I could certainly reach up and dust that old habit off. They had _better_ _be ready_ for the consequences.

My multi-lock began to sing as I flew towars the oncoming cloud of fighters. Dozens of them broke off in terror, each believing that I was targeting them specifically. The confusion only left so many to fire on me. It was an easy set of maneuvers to dodge the oncoming fire. As soon as I broke their line, I released the lock. I was through them all right, but now I had one pissed off mob on my table. Thank you, Skye, for the amazingly powerful engines on the Wolfen II's. None of the fighters behind me could keep up with me at maximum thrust, not even their interceptors.

The Indignation's guns opened up on me at last as I approached. I knew where the G-Gun was mounted; at the top of the upper spire, above the bridge. The AA guns along the spire roared as I shot up the massive super structure of the vessel. A couple shots grazed me, but my shields took them gracefully. By the time the G-Gun was in my sights I was still at 72% shield power.

A quick burst of lasers turned that very, very expensive piece of equipment to scrap. The moment the gravity field dropped, I whooped on an open channel. "See ya later, suckers!" I could just see Drake face palming from the view from his quarters.

I set a course for Sauria and hit the warp drive throttle full blast. It was time to go meet up with Janice at old Lupinhold...


	7. A Spark to Burn a World

_Hi. There's a point in this chapter where there is another musical exerpt. This time I included a youtube link that you can just copy/paste into a new tab on any major internet browser to play through and the lyrics are here. I'll be doing that once in a while later on, so keep an eye out._

_Not much else to say. Enjoy the writing, be sure to review. _

_"If the primary aim of a captain were to preserve his ship, he would keep it in port forever."_

_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_

_**Chapter VII: A Spark to Burn a World**_

_Lombardi PMC Headquarters_

_Lusterstone City, Kew_

_7:12 AM Lylat Standard Time, 1:50 PM Lusterstone City Time_

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Krystal and I got more than a couple of strange looks from Kew orbital security officers when we buzzed in for atmospheric entry approval. How often did one see the iconic Arwing just going for a pleasure cruise in this day and age? They let us through without a hitch so it didn't really bother me. We dipped straight through the acid rain clouds and smog of the industrialized atmosphere straight towards where our navigational computers pinpointed my old teammates' new place.

At first glance, it seemed he was doing well enough for himself, considering the hangar behind the three story headquarters building had an IFF tag recognizing roof doorway. They were quick enough to open that we didn't even have to hover in mid-air to wait for them. I remember before Dad got the Great Fox when the original Starfox were just landing the fighters in the back yard of our farm and covering them with a tarp... What a long way we've come.

Our two Arwings set down in a decently large, well used hangar with about a dozen other fighters scattered around on a tarmac littered with toolboxes, fuel canisters and small piles of spare parts. Amongst the fighters were two other Arwing II's, these ones customized. Katts Cat Claw and Falco's Sky Claw sat side by side. My old friend Falco could be seen with his top half buried in the nose of his craft.

I was the first out of my canopy, climbing down the ladder that popped out of the side of the hull rather than jumping out like I would have twenty years ago. I went straight to Krystal's own fighter and helped her down. When I turned to face Falco again, I was instead met by an approaching Katt. She was the same bright eyed, pink furred bombshell I remembered her as. Krystal was probably mentally kicking me in the ass when she scanned the thought, but it was less an angry kick than a nostalgic flash of similar feelings met so long ago. I was suddenly reminded of the day Katt boarded the Great Fox II and joined the team officially after the fiasco at Macbeth twenty years ago.

"How was the trip?" the feline said with a wide, welcoming smile.

"Like every long jump in a fighter cockpit always is. Times like this I regret selling the old Great Fox II." I said.

She giggled. "Yeah, I hear that. Falco can't even manage trips like that anymore, poor guy's back is giving him trouble. He has to keep the G-Diffuser amped above normal to fly properly."

I sighed. "I guess it was only a matter of time." She gave me a friendly hug when the distance finally closed, then went straight to Krystal to give her one.

"What about you, sugar? Holding up alright?"

"I... still can't believe I'm here." she said breathlessly.

"Aww, I know how you feel, hon. I wasn't very impressed when Falco spread the news to me either, but what needs to be done... right? Everything'll be alright then we can go back to our quiet lives. Well, quiet if not for Falco anyway." She giggled again. "He takes contracts once in a while, still. That's how he messed up his back, made a maneuver he really shouldn't have at his age."

"Hey, we ain't that old!" I heard the avian yell. He was heading in our direction. "My back's fine, Katt." To my amusment, his posture straightened up a bit when he said it.

"Same old Falco." I grinned. "What's this I hear about G-Diffuser amperage?" Krystal and Katt both giggled.

"Hey, you'll get yours. Just you wait." he scowled. To cement the idea I that I was joking, I left my fist hanging in the air for him to punch it. The old handshake from our childhood was still as familiar as the day we started using it in high school, and he met it without hesitation. "So. Let's get down to business." He turned around after letting his fist fall back to his side and started walking towards the double doors at the far end of the hangar that would bring us into the main building of his headquarters. "Let'ts just hope that Bill gets approval for a full oribtal defense ASAP so we can relax."

I nodded. "If he milks the story enough he might have approval within the next couple of days. That means if Vince is going to attack, he's going to do it now. Possibly today."

"Well, let's eat." Falco said. "Then we'll get in the air and on patrol. I might be able to call a few friends for support if they'll believe our story, so we'll have some backup other than the useless orbital security force. They have like, twelve fighters and a little shitty patrol frigate total."

"But how many of them will believe our story?" Krystal sighed.

Falco sighed back. "Probably none of 'em, but it don't hurt to try."

We were intercepted by the young man I knew as Jordan, Falco's blue furred feline son. He came from somewhere between two fighters, gave us a nod, and slipped in beside his dad. "Father, you wanted to see me?" It always felt weird hearing him talk. He was nothing like _either_ of his parents. That would have driven me crazy had it been myself in Falco's position...

"Yeah. I need you to grab a fighter and go straight to Corneria. Like, now. Pack your stuff and head straight for the McCloud place."

"Sir?" he said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Look, just do it, alright? Trust me. Just lay low for a bit, and keep an eye on Amy for me." We passed through a pair of automatic double doors that yielded to us with a hiss. Suddenly, we were in the darker-walled, carpeted main body of the Lombardi PMC headquarters.

Jordan paused, then nodded. "Good luck." He dissapeared down one of the hallways we crossed by, that one in particular with an elevator on the end.

"You're worried about this too, huh?" I said.

"... Never hurts to be sure. If things go bad... I don't want him to be there gettin' blown up with me." he grumbled.

"Yeah." I said, zoning out for a moment as my thoughts fell on Marcus and Marie, and a letter I left in my study for them to find... just in case. "I know the feeling."

Both women said nothing, but exchanged sickly, forboding looks.

_At the same time..._

_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_

_CASOC Headquarters, Corneria City_

_Cell 26: Current Occupant: Skye Greyson_

_8:30 AM Lylat Standard Time / Corneria City Time_

_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_

Even though most of its capabilities went into keeping itself cloaked, my nanosuit still gave me something to do in my cell with the built in mental-synching HUD. It had a complete operating system whose visual's were sent directly to my own minds eye. Like many of my successes, ironically, I owed that little feature to the research of Andross, who was now burning nicely in hell. It was the feature I was using at that very moment to run a full scan of the base and figure out the layout before my escape attempt.

Which would be _very, very _soon, if Janice kept up to schedule... which she _always_ did. When my clock hit 8:30 AM It was finally time to act. I got up, walked to the bars of the cell, and looked about for any guards. The only one was that limping brute with the keys sleeping soundly at his desk at the far end of the room. Thanks to my suit, I wouldn't be needing them.

For the sake of maneuverability, I took off all of my clothes I was wearing over the suit. It decloaked, and suddenly I was a silver clad super soldier. Knowing a camera would be picking this all up, I got right to work.

_Strength mode, activated._

The "muscle fibers" of the suit glowed an angry red, and I wrapped my paws around two cell bars that were next to each other. With minimal effort, the bars began to give way to my new found super strength. I pulled open a gap large enough for me to squeeze through. Unfortunately the bars made quite a bit of noise, and my chubby playmate was suddenly awake. In shock, he fumbled with his blaster in its holster as I surged towards him across the thirty feet of distance between us.

_Defensive mode, activated._

He was able to fire before I reached him, but the suit's shields reflected the red bolt towards the ceiling with nothing more than a brief yellow flash. My shield monitor dropped to 96%. Why they had a CASOC security officer equipped with a weak, cop issued piece of shit is beyond me. I closed the distance between us rapidly, closing a paw around his shooting wrist as soon as I was in range. He fired again at point blank, but again hit raised shields. A quick twist broke his wrist and made him drop the pistol, as my other paw shot around his neck. I lifted the dog off the floor and choked the air out of him. When he finally passed out, I threw him to the side like a rag doll before recovering his pistol off the ground. I would be hopefully be replacing that piece of scrap very shortly.

Right on time, at 8:32 AM, my HUD lit up with two other signatures on the Scarlet Hand secure operations channel: _Whisper_ and _Ruby, _aka Janice and Fay. I was added to the channel as _Atlas_. I never _did_ ask Janice what my call sign was in my time with the Hand. I suppose that was it. There were several grayed out names that would have usually been filled in by the other members of the Hand. The other names were _Hunter, Index, Stalker, Carson _and _Onyx_, which I knew were Wolf, Drake, Leon, Panther and Vince in that order. Kind of nerve wracking when you realize only two on that list are alive, and only one can still be considered a friend.

_"Atlas, this is Whisper. What's your status?"_

"I'm clear of the cell. I'm sending you the base schematic data. Go straight for the experimental weapons storage section. I'll go there first and lock it down. There's a very high chance that I won't be alone by the time you get there."

_"Security will beat us there."_

"I know. We can deal with that when the time comes."

_"Hey boss!" _it was Fay. _"Doing alright down there?"_

"I'm fine, Ruby. Stick with Whisper and keep on the move. I'd rather get out of here _before_ we are up to our necks in special forces."

_"You got it. Race you there!"_

Shaking my head for a moment at the absurdity, I continued out of the cell block through a set of double doors into an all metal hallway brightly lit by a rectangular row of lights running down the center of the ceiling. I was not surprised to hear the pitter patter of security units coming my way. I turned the blaster in my paws to shock setting (that pathetic toy didn't even have stun thanks to its output) and carried on out into the hallway. Four guards came around a corner from my left. My objective was to the right, so I started in a full out run in that direction. Several blaster shots went off and I felt one impact my shields. I spun for a brief moment and let off a few shock rounds in their direction. To intensely satisfying effect, two landed on separate targets and the two unfortunate guards dropped, writhing quite literally in shock. I slipped around the corner.

My HUD map showed me the way to the experimental weapons section. I would go straight there, use my nanosuit's electronics interface to scramble the door codes, lock myself in with some goodies until Janice and Fay arrived, then I would use whatever toys available to smash out of the shitstorm of security that would definitely be there. Then my comrades would suit up, and we would go straight to the roof where our Wolfens' autopilot would take them at persicely 9:00 AM. We had twenty seven minutes.

Only two more small groups of guards got in my way in my dash through the basement level of CASOC. The huge, ominous doors of the experimental weapons storage room and two guards blocked my way, but that would change. As soon as I came flying around the corner, the last two bolts in that guards' pistol knocked the two guards out of commission. I skidded to a halt in front of the access console. There were two locks, a paw touch pad and a retinal scanner.

Perfect.

I put my paw on the scanner, and my HUD detected the pad immediately. _"425,122 DNA patterns on file. Select access identity."_

"William Grey."

_"Confirmed._" The suit glove began to expand and take shape appropriately, even changing colour and texture to that of the old dog. The scanner beeped at me. I lowered my face down to the retinal scanner, and waited a few moments. My hud that projected over my eyes started projecting a camouflage to mask my own eyes with those of Bill Grey. The console beeped at me again.

_"Identity confirmed. Welcome, General Grey._" The huge double doors began to slide open.

"Atlas here. I've gained access to the weapons lab." Out of habit, with a swift pair of kicks to the temples of each of the two guards, I put them out of consciousness. Their grunts of pain were beginning to annoy me.

Janice chimed in. "_Roger, Atlas. We'll be there in two minutes tops."_

"Good. See you then." I walked into the ominous laboratory, and the doors began to seal shut behind me.

It was as modernized and laced with grandeur as you would expect from a containment chamber for super-advanced weapons. It did feel rather odd knowing I had a hand in creating some of the devices they were keeping in storage here; all this security for things I had prototypes of locked up in my basement. My entry was heralded by row upon row of lights (it wasn't even that large of a chamber, the lights were just stacked together closely) snapping on and brightening the room significantly more than they would have if not for the sterile metal walls reflecting the light like mirrors. As for the actual contents of the room, there was just what you would expect... weapons. Large tubes that I knew were designed to hold the TECANIS-II prototypes lined the far end of the room. Other than that, simply gun racks holding all different manners of interesting toys I both did-and-didn't recognize.

I didn't have a minute to lose. I surged straight to the nearest containment console and got to work depressurizing the contianment tubes for two of the suits. There were six in total, and we certainly couldn't carry the spare ones out as extra baggage. There went our plan of keeping Dagger off of our tails.

Oh well, we could deal with them later. More fun that way.

Speak of the devil... _"Greyson, we know you're in there. Come out unarmed and you might get out of this alive."_ It was Birse. Ahead of schedule, as expected.

_"Skye..."_

"How many?"

_"One infantry squad of twelve plus Birse. We can't KO them with gas canisters until we have our own suits to block out the effects... any ideas?"_

"I was trying to avoid killing Cornerians but we might not have a choice now. I obviously underestimated their response time. What do you have for weapons?"

_"Silenced SMGs, a couple of flashbangs... not much. We aren't packed for a war. Lupinhold didn't have much spare for us to bring along; Wolf cleaned the place out good before he abandoned it."_

"Odd; that's very unlike him. Do you have your kukri knives?"

_"Of course I do. I thought we were trying to avoid killing them, though?"_

"A few dead grunts we can deal with. Spare Birse."

_"What's so important about him, anyway?"_

I didn't have a straight answer for her, really. If we succeeded in stopping Vince... what would it matter? We could kill him right here and probably save ourselves a gargantuan headache. One surprise knife from Janice's hiding spot would be all it would take. He wouldn't even have known his life was in danger. Last I checked he never had any children, regardless. Couldn't afford the birth alteration pills needed for his wife to have a stable hybrid pup, if memory serves me correct.

But if we failed...

"Because Lylat is going to need every last hero she can get if we don't succeed." I breathed.

There was a short pause before her reply. _"You got it, Boss. We'll tell you when it's clear."_

_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_

_Outside of the chamber..._

_CASOC Security Squad 2, under temporary command of Colonel Gage Birse_

_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_

General Grey kept coming on the comms for me every five damn seconds for a status report. _"Birse, status."_

"Greyson has himself locked up in the experimental weapons storage. Still no sign of any possible outside help."

_"We're tracking two unknown heat signatures closing in your position quick. That's probably them."_

"Wait..." I paused. "How far are they?"

_"Close."_

I knew there was lag between the infared scanners of the base and the actual feed of about five or six seconds. We were in a straight hallway with T-junctions at our left and right. They could pincer us in and who knows how they could have armed themselves?

"SQUAD!" I yelled. "Eyes to three and nine! We have incoming!" I dropped to the ground. Most hesitated to look.

My timing was, unfortunately, right on. Shadowy figures suddenly burst around the corners at each side, and bullets were raining down on us. My service blaster barked at the one to our right. We were coverless. I could have swore I hit the shillouette, because they seemed to trip and fall beyond the other corner.

I turned around to fire at the other, but dumb luck ran out. Most of the squad covering that side was already dead, and the other bogey, one I recognized as Janice Greyson, plunged at me.

She tackled me, causing me to drop my gun but I took the blow otherwise gracefully and kicked into her stomach, sending her flying back and tumbling to the ground behind me. Once I rolled back into an operable posture, I dove for one of the dead soldier's pistols, but when I landed on my stomach with my paw around the grip, her ice cold voice and the barrell of a gun to the back of my head stopped me.

"Hold it right there, Birse."

I didn't have a choice. I froze. With me still on my stomach, Janice was up on her feet with a silenced Carlson 40H blaster pointed at me. She immediately gave a swift kick to my gun hand, sending the pistol sliding across the floor far out of reach. The double containment doors began to open, and a nanosuit armored Skye emerged along with frosty containment gasses that flowed across the floor.

"Good job, Whisper. Where's Ruby?"

I heard a cough coming from the right. I went to stand up slowly, and didn't get any objections from my captor so I stood completely. I was not surprised to see the white curly furred dog with the big red ribbon tied into the back of her hair that identified her as Fay Spaniel. I was right; I did hit her, but I cursed my dulled aim when I saw I only hit her in the upper left arm. "Right here, boss. Took one in the shoulder, but..." She winced. "I'll be okay for now." Her paw was covering up a messy laser burn. That was going to leave a mark.

I finally spoke. "Just what do you three hope to accomplish? Going to go join up with Vince and blow up a few planets? For what?"

Skye shook his head. "Nothing I told you was a lie, Birse, it's simply that I would rather be out there working to actually _do _something rather than sit around and wait for politicians to make up their cursed minds. Besides; if my time in here allowed Vince to get away with catastrophe I would probably be executed immediately or sealed up for life in some max security prison, as you imbeciles still seem to believe I gave him the gravity bomb blueprints."

_"You're damn right we do." _I didn't say out loud.

He walked over to Spaniel and took a look at her shoulder. "Muscle damage. This has to be dealt with but it's not life threatening." then he turned back to Janice. "Knock him out."

"You sure?" she said. "Last chance to kill him." She may be a vicious bitch, but she was right. If they didn't kill me here... I was going to hunt them down. I don't leave debts unpaid.

He hesitated for a moment, looking into my eyes and undoubtedly seeing frustrated fury. His all business expression didn't change; I looked into his. He was the cold blooded killer I knew he was. Cool, calculating and ruthless. He nodded, and I felt the giveaway impact of a pistol butt on the back of my head.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

As Birse dropped to the ground, I passed a TECANIS suit to each of the girls. "Suit up quick, we need to get out of here. What's our escape route?"

Janice just stopped her suit in mid air and let it fall to the ground, and immediately began stripping into her undergarments. "Roof. Our fighters are programmed on auto pilot and will be making a pass over the General's atrium at 9:00 AM."

I checked my eye HUD's chronometer. 8:42 AM; eighteen minutes. Fay caught her suit, but hesitated. I looked over. "You're kidding, right?"

She scowled, and got to stripping down. I gave her the benefit to her modesty by looking away, but she even went as far as to take a quick shot at a camera up in the corner, blowing it down from it's perch.

I turned to Janice. "You checked for AA emplacements before coming up with this, right?"

"There aren't any. On the outside, this is just an over glorified office building."

"And do you have a plan on how to get to the roof?"

She finished suiting up her nanosuit, and I couldn't help but stare for a moment. They fit on women quite tight indeed. "Yup." She pulled her gadgets out of her old clothes, attaching them to different points on her suit. The nanobots reacted to objects she wanted to hold onto, little strings of bots extending from the suit and gripping them. Two of the devices were small pistol-like objects she threw to me and Fay. "Grappel guns. We take the elevator shaft. It'll be brought to the basement level below us automatically when we trigger the fire alarms by burning our old clothes, then we can just use the shaft to get to the top floor."

I grinned. "Brilliant." I looked to Fay, who had just finished changing. "Ready?"

She was still wincing at the pain she was doubtlessly feeling in her shoulder, but she still stood straight. Once the suit was finished syncing with her mind it would automatically inject pain numbing and healing agents into her. She would be fine for now. "Yeah." she said, ruffled.

"Alright, let's move." The last thing Janice pulled out of her old clothes was a simple lighter, which she sparked up and used to light the clothes on fire.

"What about Birse?" she said.

"How long until he wakes up?"

"Uhh, I hit him hard enough to put a normal guy out for an hour but with his conditioning, he should be up in more like fifteen minutes."

"Then he'll either get himself out of the fire or the reinforcements that are undoubtedly coming will pull him out. Let's go." There was about ten feet of distance between the burning clothes and the unconscious Birse, with nothing between them but wet, dead bodies. The alarm went off automatically, and I shot out the fire suppression sprinklers above us as they appeared.

"_See you out there, Gage._" I whispered before the three of us took off in the direction of the elevator.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

_Two hours later_

_Orbit of Kew_

_10:58 AM LST_

_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_

The space around Kew was calm that night; not much commercial or patrol traffic. My cockpit was silent other than the quiet hum of the Arwing II's engine. Falco, Katt and Krystal were behind me in a diamond formation; our fighters illuminated softly by the light reflected by Kew's twin moons. The fresh silver paint jobs of mine and Krystal's newer fighters contrasted directly against Falco's solid blue and Katt's hot pink. We waited... for what, we didn't even know anymore. Would Vince drop in ships? Just a missile? Fighter escort? For all we knew, Vince had already smuggled the bomb into Kew airspace.

Not many of Falco's friends decided to help, despite the impending threat. Most of the problem is no one really wanted to believe our story. I guess I couldn't blame them... how should I _expect _someone to react when an old man randomly calls them up and explain how it's quite likely the world is about to end? Listening to some of their scoffs, I was beginning to doubt myself as well. Of course, the only people that came are the young pilots who drool over the sound of my name. The only backup we had were rookie fan boys who talked too much just to get some kind of response out of me. One pilot in particular said he would only go with me if I gave him my autograph... Kids these days.

After about an hour and a half of drifting without so much of a word (except for one or two interview attempts from the idiot fans that came with us) my comm board lit up. Audio only, and it wasn't a anyone in our group.

_"Damn, they aren't taking me seriously. Did I expect different, though...? That will change soon, I think. Let round one begin."_

I knew that voice. It was him. Twenty years ago, he was quiet and more serious... but this voice, it was like he had gone out of his mind the same way Leon did after the first war.

"You guys get that?" I said.

_"Get what?" _Falco replied immediately.

"Vince, he just contacted me. He's here."

_"You sure? I don't see anything on radar."_

I looked back down to my comm board... and it was blank, like nothing happened. I started bringing up my chat log... but then my radar started blinking too.

_"Shit, I see it this time! Eyes up, gang, three patrol frigates with mounted anti-fighter cannons closing in mark one-thirty by forty! my zero! Harlock-class!"_

He was coming from behind us, from the night-side orbit of the planet. "Alright guys, lock and load! Split to engage, and watch out for ANY kind of missile aimed for the planet and call it out so we can grab it with Katt's tractor beam!"

The mercs all chimed in before splitting out of our formation and flipping their noses towards the attackers.

_"Roger, SF-one, Dragon Claws moving in to intercept."_

_"Winterhawks moving to engage."_

_"Haymaker six standing by to attack."_

The nine fighters and our four Arwings charged with the moonlight to our backs towards the intruding ships. Radar was picking up twelve more fighters that belonged to Falco's hired contractors that were coming up from the surface.

_"Star Falco one, standing by. Full squad of twelve coming in strong to assist."_

"You're kidding me, right?" I said with a chuckle.

Falco opened up a private line to me for a moment. _"Meh, the comparison makes 'em work harder. More bang for my buck, yeah?"_

I closed the channel, back into frosty mode. Our attackers were old salvaged Harlock class frigates from the old Area Six (barely flying rust buckets by now) with some mods. I zoomed in a small corner of my HUD and spotted a few extra anti-air guns and updated missile tubes on the stubby wings. If there was anything glaring about these vessels, is that they had a rather strange paint job; just their normal metallic silver with random splashes of red paint made to look like blood splatter. When we got close enough to the three vessels, their IFF tags came up: The _SHS Eye, SHS Consume and SHS Babies, _in that order from left to right.

What the _fuck?_

_"Damn, what the heck is with those names?" _Katt said.

Krystal chimed in. _"Some kind of sick joke..."_

If anything caught my attention there, it was that the ship present at the space station assault the other day, the _Executor_, was not part of this group. I put that in the back of my mind to think about later.

Being long range missile frigates, the enemy took the first shots, anti-air cannons launching angry red pulses at us that were a cinch to dodge at that long range. Smooth, relaxed movements with the yoke kept me in a safe path through the fire and in control of my fighter. As we got closer, it became steadily more difficult but not quite into the panic zone. Some of our merc friends noticed this and broke off to all different sides to spread around the AA-fire and give us a clear shot. I winced as one of the mercenary pilots of the Dragon Claws suddenly vanished off of my radar. I turned off their inter-squad chat so I could concentrate before it would predictably erupt with cries of vengeance.

With the quick thinking of the merc distraction our four Arwings were able to get close enough to the first frigate without a hitch. We each strafed a different side of it, tearing apart armor that would have held up to anything short of hell a few decades ago. By the time we passed it, the _Eye_ was spouting flames from many points on every side. It began to veer awkwardly.

"Remember, don't destroy the ships completely, just disable them. We need to capture the red matter bomb, not detonate it. Make sure their missile launch systems are disabled."

_"You heard the man, kids! Knock out their active systems, don't hit the missile tubes!" _Falco said. The rest of the mercs started to close the distance on the other cruisers, firing at the main bodies instead of the missile-bank filled wings.

I knew by memory the targeting distance of the Harlock's LRM systems, and that was one hundred and fifty kilometers. We were two hundred away from the surface of Kew. "Hurry it up, gentlemen. Hit their engines first, they're only fifty clicks out from optimal firing range."

It was possible. We could do it.

Or, so I thought.

_"Fox!" _Krystal cried, _"We have a missile launch! The middle ship just fired a massive LRM straight at the planet; Thor class!"_

Thor class missiles. Optimal distance at two hundred clicks. Designed for the carrying of a wide range of munition and detonator types. Usually not fit for the Harlock class.

Rookie mistake. I assumed these ships were carrying stock systems when they were in the hands of a rogue. I hate to admit it, but... there wasn't much we could do, now.

"Hit it. Detonate it early, at least that way the civilians have a chance to evacuate."

_"...Fox?"_ Falco said. _"You sure there's no other way?"_

"It's all we can do!" I looped around towards the missile. "I'm going to launch a timed smart bomb at it! Run for it! All fighters, break away! Warp out of system immediately!" I started priming a smart bomb with a timer. The mercenary fighters all scrambled like I said, warping out of system immediately.

Then the unthinkable happened.

It detonated with a bright flash.

... A bright flash?

There was no black hole. Suddenly, all of my electronics were starting to malfunction. My HUD turned red and screamed at me with reports of multiple crucial systems failing. Weapons, engines, G-Diffusion, shields... just comms, cockpit lights and thankfully life support were online. Small, sparkling bits of metal floated outside my cockpit windshield, and then I realized...

"Can anyone hear me?" my dash wasn't picking up video feed anymore.

My teammates sounded off with audio only. _"Falco here, most of my systems are out. I'm drifting."_

_"Katt, same problem."_

_"Me too."_

Those little bits of chaff... they were an extremely old form of EMP explosive. Nothing was ready for them anymore simply because no one used them due to a pathetically short range, and their incapability against battleships. Some backwater planetary militias used them as a secondary weapon on law enforcement fighters, but that was it.

A dark chuckle filled my cockpit, audio only again. _"Wrong answer, ladies and gentlemen." _It was Vince.

"What the hell is this, Xavier?" I growled. "What are you doing? And more importantly, why?"

_"The RIGHT answer would be not to be such a bunch of emotional bastards and to take the Arwing III's from Toad, instead of leaving them behind incase you became failed martyrs. They're immune to this kind of explosive."_

I stayed silent, he was obviously ignoring me.

_"Luckily for you all, Starfox, this was the warm-up round. Next time, people die... but as for you, that isn't your game. You get to sit in my brig and get front row seats to the show! Aren't you excited?" _An evil cackling followed.

_"What is this guy's deal?" _Katt scoffed.

_"Deal? I ain't got a deal, kitty. Just a lot of time, money and resources on my hands... and one very, very difficult to cure case of boredom." _Another sick, twisted laugh. _"I just want to play a game, don't they see it?"_

_"This guy's crazy." _Falco said. _"As soon as the senate gives the LDC the go ahead to mobilize, your game is gonna' be over real fuckin' quick."_

_"The senate?" He scoffed, and he spat out a long drawn out cackle. "They wouldn't know a threat if it kicked them in the dicks! Nuh uh, you merc types are on your lonesome... let them have Kew. Shitty planet anyway."_

Recovery fighters were coming from the _Consume._

_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_

_Six Hours Later_

_On Corneria_

_McCloud Residence_

_5:39 PM LST_

_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_

I was sitting alone in the grass of our backyard, just watching and listening to the waves on the beachfront down the hill from me. A gentle ocean breeze helped relax some of my worry. Something big was going down; both of my parents left that morning. Just a couple of hours ago, I found a sealed envelope on the desk of my dad's study. I hadn't told Marie about it yet... all it said on the envelope was _"Open in three days." _I was tempted, but I restrained myself. There was probably some good reason they wrote that on it.

I could feel Karen's presence approaching before I could hear her heavy boots in the grass. "Thinkin ' about your folks?"

I bowed my head. "Yeah."

She took a seat beside me, but awkwardly didn't follow through. So I did. "Got bored with the others?"

"Nah, just annoyed. They talk too much. Marie keeps blabbering on when she _really _doesn't have anything to say, Aryn just stares at her and listens intently when I can tell he doesn't give a damn deep down, and Amy keeps being annoying and glaring at me like I'm going to shoot her randomly. Well, to be honest, the thought crossed my mind a couple of times."

I grinned. As cynical an assessment as I had imagined, considering the aura of annoyance that was floating on her surface thoughts. Out of manners and practiced moral, I didn't dig into her mind any further than that. There were a few moments of silence.

"Man, this is one fuck of a view." she whistled. "All there is on Kew is gray rock. Even living on a cliff side there wasn't really much to see. Here? Ocean air, your own damn beach... I haven't gone swimming in a while, now that I think about it."

"Did you bring a swim suit?" I said.

"What do you think, jackass?" she scowled. I suddenly realized how stupid the question was: we dragged her kicking and screaming out of her mansion, so she didn't have much other than her gun and the clothes she was wearing. "I hope my account access cards all work out here. I'm gonna have to go clothes shopping if I'm stuck here too much longer."

"I guess I can take you out tomorrow. Not like were doing anything..." I found myself looking at the envelope. She noticed.

"What's with the letter?" she said without the slightest hint of care or subtlety.

"Folks left it behind. Saw it on Dad's desk. Not supposed to open it for three days, apparently."

"Heh..." she said. "At least your dad got a chance to say goodbye."

I growled. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh come on," she scoffed. "You're in denial. What the fuck else could it be? It's a final goodbye in case they don't come back. Don't bullshit yourself."

Well, she certainly wasn't pulling any punches but I couldn't deny that she was right. I guess I just didn't want to believe it... none of us really knew what was going on. All I knew was what I pulled out of Captain Ley's mind, the rest has been kept under wraps. All I got as far as orders or briefing was a command to keep O'Donnell in my custody for the time being.

Her aura lightened a bit, and she patted me on the back. "Look, I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean it that way. I know how it feels to lose parents, trust me. Took a while for me to get over it." she sighed. "I curse death on a lot of people, but shit... nothing sucks quite like having it actually happen to someone you care about."

We sat in silence for a while, the void where our voices were suddenly reoccupied by the ocean. I wondered what she might have been like before her parents died. Was she more positive and... well, girly back then? If Mom and Dad _did_ end up dying... would I turn the same way?

I stopped getting ahead of myself. My parents are legends. They could handle anything.

"You're quiet. You better not be reading my mind, Marcus." she said.

I rolled my eyes. "If I was, you could feel it."

"Oh." she said. "You know, I have Cerinian powers too."

"Oh really?" I said.

"Yeah. Look at my eyes." I turned to look at her, already knowing about her red eyes. I looked deeper in, maybe there was some kind of detail I missed before. Nope, just her vivid, crimson red irises. Nothing else unusual there. She was awkwardly staring back into mine. Maybe she thought she'd see some obvious sign of my own powers.

"Well, they're red. Is it natural?"

"Yup. Mom said it's a sign of telekinesis, although I haven't manifested yet. I can lift like, small objects if I really try, but nothing major, yet..." Suddenly realizing I was still staring at her eyes, I looked away. She fell back into her seated position and went back to gazing at the ocean.

"Cool."

"That's all you gotta say?" she scoffed. "Some day I'm going to be able to, like, throw cars around and shit with my mind. That's more than you can say."

"You know that Cerinian powers tend to manifest by the end of puberty, right?" I said with the most flat, unjoking tone I could muster. I could feel the fury immediately wash over her consciousness.

"Well _normal_ Cerinians don't get _my_ power, so you can shove your statistics up your ass, you blue furred bastard." I grinned at the ocean below us.

Suddenly, I noticed Marie's voice calling me from the patio about a hundred yards behind us. I turned to look, and she was waving us down. "I think she wants something."

"Who gives a shit? I like where I am." she said.

"We should go see what she wants." I pushed myself onto my feet, and offered a paw to help her up. She hesitated for a second, but took it, and I hoisted her onto her feet. We headed back for the patio.

I yelled back to Marie, stuffing the envelope back into the pocket of my jeans. "What do you want?"

"Let's play something!" she yelled. It took me moment to realize she wasn't talking about a game, but a song.

"Fine, I'll be there in a minute!"

Karen raised an eyebrow. "Play what, some stupid game?"

"Nah, me and Marie are musicians. She probably wants to play something for Amy and Aryn."

"Well, count me out. I don't give a damn." I guess she was completely oblivious to how rude turning down that invitation was. I also doubted she cared.

"Oh, come on. We're actually pretty good. You play anything?"

"I screw around with the guitar between jobs sometimes, but I ain't that good."

"Well, can you keep up with easy tab display stuff? We can get Aryn to play kit, you on guitar, and me on keyboard. It fits perfectly." Tab display was basically karaoke for instrument music, invented to help with easier sight reading on the fly and for making practice easier.

"Decently, I guess, but I ain't playing."

"Sure you are."

"No."

"Why not?"

She hesitated for a few seconds, but finally came up dry. "Fine, whatever. But don't say I didn't warn you. I kill people, not play music for them."

I chuckled a little. "It's nice to have a hobby, though, right?"

"Killing people _is_ my hobby!" she whined. My eyes glanced down to her huge pistol, the Demon, and I realized that she actually wasn't joking.

We climbed up onto the wooden platform where the other three were. Amy was lounging around on a bench while Aryn was setting up our drum kit (although we could almost call it his, because he uses it more than either of us) and Marie was plugging in the micand guitar amps into the wall.

"No keyboard, huh?" I said, approaching Marie from behind.

She plugged in the guitar and the microphone and turned around to greet me and Karen. "Nope, you're on mic today. I'm playing guitar."

"Oh, really?" I said.

"Yeah, we're gonna play Remedy."

I sighed, no debate on that one, I guess. Karen stopped, realizing she probably wasn't needed. I turned to face her. "You're off the hook, looks like."

Rather than buggering off like I expected, she just took a seat with Amy. Guess she was more interested than she let on. I was half tempted to read her to make sure, but I let her off with her own opinions and took my place behind the mic stand. Marie skipped over to the electric guitar, and nodded to me with a smile.

"Okay then, this one's called Remedy..." I said into the mic. They obviously didn't need it to hear me, it was more just to see it was working. Hopefully the neighbors weren't on night shift again, because they definitely weren't going to be sleeping through this.

(/watch?v=9mZBCOZ1Qm4)

_Throw your dollar bills  
and leave your thrills all here with me.  
Speak but don't pretend,  
I won't defend you any more,you see here...  
It aches, in every bone,  
I die alone,  
But not for you...  
My eyes don't need to see  
That ugly thing,  
I know its me you fear..._

_If you want me hold me back!_

_Frail, this skin is dry and pale,  
the pain will never heal,  
and so it goes..  
Back to the Remedy.  
Clip, those wings that get you high.  
just leave them where they lie,  
and tell yourself...  
You'll be the death of me..._

_I don't need a friend,  
I need to mend.  
so far away...  
So come sit by the fire.  
and play a while,  
but you can't stay too long...  
It aches in every bone,  
I'll die alone.  
But not for pleasure...  
I've seen my heart explode.  
It's been eroded by the weather here..._

_If you want me hold me back!_

_Frail, this skin is dry and pale,  
the pain will never heal,  
and so it goes..  
Back to the Remedy.  
Clip, those wings that get you high.  
just leave them where they lie,  
and tell yourself...  
You'll be the death of me..._

_Frail, this skin is dry and pale,  
the pain will never heal,  
and so it goes..  
Back to the Remedy.  
Clip, those wings that get you high.  
just leave them where they lie,  
and tell yourself...  
You'll be the death of me..._

_Hold your eyes closed take me in...  
Hold your eyes closed take me in!_

Marie took over with a guitar solo that pierced the heavens and _definitely _disturbed the neighbhors. It wasn't impressive technically, per se, but with Aryn smashing out the drum line and the feel of the song taking root... For that moment, all my worries about my parents were thrown aside. _This_ is what music was all about... freedom from the shit of the galaxy. Right then and there, we flew on our own wings.

_Frail, this skin is dry and pale,  
The pain will never heal,  
and so it goes..Back to the Remedy.  
Clip, those wings that get you high.  
just leave them where they lie,  
and tell yourself...  
You'll be the death of me..._

_Frail, this skin is dry and pale,  
the pain will never heal,  
and so it goes..  
Back to the Remedy.  
Clip, those wings that get you high.  
just leave them where they lie,  
and tell yourself...  
You'll be the death of me..._

When we stopped, we were met with the thin applause of our two person. I took a grateful bow, as did Marie. Aryn just lay back and grinned to the sky on a hard-rock high.

Suddenly, I noticed that our phone was ringing. I looked over to Marie, pointing to the house. "You wanna get that?"

"Sure." She put her guitar down and ran into the house. I walked over and took a seat on the bench with the other ladies.

"That was awesome, Marcus! I knew Marie could sing but I didn't know you could, too!"

"Thanks, Amy." I smiled. "It all comes with practice."

Even Karen seemed pleased. "That actually _was _good, I was expecting some sappy, acoustic crap. That was-"

Her voice was interupted with my mind sinking into alarm. I felt something coming from the house.

A black, heart wrenching aura was pouring from Marie like a shattered dam. The worry filled my own mind when I realized what it was.

Terror. The sheer magnitude of it made me feel oddly numb.

_What...? You can't... You can't mean..._

_Marie, I'm sorry, but we don't know much more than that at this point. There's still a chance that they're alive and unharmed. There is no sign of their fighters, or the Lombardi's either. No wreckage, so we know they're alive... somewhere._

_But... what could have happened? They didn't even... they didn't even tell me where they were going-_

_Look, the defense council is pulling on my chains right now so I have to go. I'm going to do everything in my power to bring them back, alright? Just sit tight. Don't do anything crazy. We'll have Fox and Krystal home. I promise. We've got the best of the best on their case._

_Click._

_"Marcus?"_

I snapped out of my trance. Amy was holding my shoulders, and I was lying on the ground, facing up. "Marcus! Are you okay!" The light of the afternoon flowed back into my eyes but a cloud of fear shut out my awareness of it.

"Mom... dad..." I breathed. I couldn't keep talking. Tears were rapidly welling up in my eyes out of pure, horrific worry. I could barely keep my mind in the real world. A sense of duty to warn Amy snapped me more into the daylight. "And... your parents, too..."

She saw it in my eyes. "What happened to them?" She tried to help me up, my arms had trouble supporting me. The aura was still there... emanating even from Amy, now. It was pinning me down.

Marie ran out onto the porch and answered her question, tears streaming down her face. "They've been captured...! All four of them... Mom, Dad, Falco, Katt..."

I finally found the strength to sit up, and I pulled the letter out of my pocket. Marie fell to her knees beside me, crying into her hands until she noticed what I was holding.

"Marcus? What's that?"

"Dad left it behind..." I broke the seal. Piss on the three days. In side was a single, neatly folded sheet of paper, one side with a series of numbers, the other with a note.

I read the note aloud.

_Marcus and Marie:_

_Me and your mother have already taken out the Arwing II's and are at Kew. As you already know, things are starting to stir up. Doomsday weapons are going missing, strange pirate attacks are hitting, and everyone is in a state of paranoia. When it came to our attention that a huge attack on Kew was likely, me and your mother agreed to link up with the Lombardis to hold down the fort until the Cornerian Senate could send reinforcements._

_Although, if you're reading this... we didn't come back. There's hundreds of things that could have happened. If the terrible is true, and the planet was obliterated, then... I guess this is goodbye. I wanted to let you both know how god damn proud we are of you. Ever since me and your mother settled down when she first became pregnant with you guys, we vowed to raise you guys innocently and have you lead normal lives unlike the life of death that I was forced into. Although, it looks like it was fate after all, because here you are... My own son being trained for special ops at my best friend's academy, and my daughter taking up flying and becoming a pilot with skill to rival my own. If you guys are bound to my fate like that, then I can also be sure you two are going to grow up to be heroes._

_On the reverse side of this letter is a series of important phone numbers and lock codes. The locks are for the storage room and vaults in the hangar. There you'll find the trust fund we saved from the pay off of the Venomian Conflict, there should be upwards of thirty million credits and change in there as well as a nice collection of weapons. Make sure to take a look, there is some unique stuff in there that I was going to give you both some day. They'll serve you well. The first phone number is for Slippy Toad, president of Toad Enterprises and Aerospace Dynamics. He's also an old team mate of mine, and can supply you with pretty much everything you'll ever need if you two decide to take up the Starfox flag. The Arwing III's were finished recently, as well as the TECANIS-II nanosuits which I know were sent for special forces use so, army or not, Marcus, you should be getting your hands on a set. _

_While I might be getting ahead of myself... I doubt it. I know you two too well. You're going to want revenge, just like I did when Andross murdered my own parents. Just... please, be careful, and use your sense. Surround yourself with people you can trust... and if you decide to forsake the war path and live out your lives, don't worry about our memory; we just want you to be happy. Revenge isn't healthy, as satisfying as it can be._

_Marcus, a life in the military can be hard, but it'll make you strong and solidify your sense of duty. Trust your teammates and always over analyze. Corruption is just as real in the military as it is in the private sector, and looks can always be decieving. You've probably gone through all of the awareness excercises now so you don't need to hear any of this but... never hurts to be sure. It's a hard path you walk, but if anyone can survive, and ultimately win, it's you and your team. Always remember that. Your team is more important than anything else. Bond with them, learn their strengths, weaknesses and personalities. No one ever won a war on his own, as much as the records like to say I did._

_Marie, don't be discouraged or think you aren't ready for a life of flying. You are an incredible pilot, and another year would have seen you flying circles around me. There will be no better pilot in the galaxy if you continue to dedicate yourself to the trade. Learn the Arwing III, make it an extension of yourself, and remember everything I taught you. Stay cool, keep a firm – but – relaxed grip on the yoke and watch your surroundings. Don't fall into tunnell vision... bah, you've heard all of this before. Don't get cocky out there, because when you finally tap into your real potential, you're going to feel like a god... but that's when you start to make mistakes. No matter what you do... don't die before your time. Failure _is _better than death, and don't be afraid to take a loss if you know success will mean your death. Live to fight another day. Record book heroes gave their lives. Real heroes won the war because they knew their limits so they would be there when the galaxy needed them most. Never forget that._

_I'm so sorry it had to end this way. We wanted to live to see you two become heroes, but, we lived good lives and did our duty. I know you two will leave a legacy behind even greater than ours some day. We love you, and are damn proud of you both._

_Whatever path you choose, we'll be watching. _

_We love you~_

_Fox and Krystal McCloud_

We sat in silence for a bit. Stunned.

Karen finally broke the silence. "Meh, could be worse."

Marie, still sobbing, snapped at her. "What do you mean, _worse? _How could it possibly get worse than this?"

"They could be _dead_, that's how. But there's still a chance to save them, if you get off your asses now and get out there."

"And do _what, _exactly? We don't have any leads. We don't even have fighters right now."

"That's what he left the numbers for, you dolt-"

"ENOUGH!" I barked. We were in silence again as the girls obeyed.

"We can't do anything if we just sit here and bicker about it. We follow dad's instructions. We're going to call Mr. Toad and see what we can do, then we're going to talk to General Grey and see what intel we can get. If he orders me to stay put, I'll resign on the spot and join up with the rest of you." I looked to Amy. "What are your plans?"

"Well, now that I've resigned, there isn't much I can do. I can't pilot a fighter, so... I'm more or less useless outside of a bridge. I donno. You guys'll be getting transport ship or something, right? I want in on this."

"Come back with us to CASOC tomorrow regardless. Maybe the General will throw you another bone and have to ship myself and the rest of Sierra out to look for them." I looked to Karen. "And you?"

A fire lit up in her eyes, more out of anticipation than anger. "Are you kidding? I ain't turning down a lead on Xavier. I've been looking to gut that pig for six years, and this might be my chance. Wherever you guys go, I'm there."

Aryn had an arm around a tear-soaked Marie. I turned to them both. "And you both know what you need to do."

Marie finally snapped to her senses, sliding Aryn's arm off her shoulder and sitting up. "Y-Yeah. Gotta call Slippy and get the new Arwing III's, then we start gathering info on where Vince could be holding our parents."

"So, we have a plan. Let's put it into gear." I finally stood with my own strength, the dark aura having been replaced by a brighter one of resolve and a burn for vengeance. "Before we do anything, we check out that secure storage room in the hangar." I looked to the building in question, off to the side in our back yard about a fifty yard distance from the deck.

_We're coming, guys. Just stay put... we're not counting you out yet._

_x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-  
_

The children of Starfox didn't detect me leaning against a tree outside of their own backyard. I watched them with an amused interest. Good musicians, those McCloud kids... If they win the game, they'll go far.

_"Natural leader indeed, that boy..." _I snickered to myself. _"I'm going to have a blast with you, kid. Just you wait. Oh, the good times we'll have..."_

To spark the festivities, I left my own little present in their little store room for them to find. The first cookie crumb on the trail to the big event, if you will.

_"Warm up is over. Let round two begin."_


End file.
